Forest of Evermore
by Black Imperial
Summary: Abiathar has finally returned home. Karayan and Ra'id joined him. Will Abiathar ever learn about the past of either elf or mercenary? Rated for death
1. Chapter 1

Hey, this is my first fanfic, so help me out here. Please criticize.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that appears in this story. (At this present time in space.)

QuickFact: I wrote most of this before I had even heard of Fanfiction, so almost all of it is original. However, I decided to have it take place in Alagaesia to have it be more interesting to you Eragon fans.

It was an ugly day. Rain poured down on the house owned by Samuel. The home was newly refinished and looked recently built. It's white paint shone through the rain, giving it an almost radiant presence. In the large front yard, two figures could be seen through the driving rain in a sparing position. Each held a dull sword made from burnished steel. The oldest of the pair seemed to be of advanced age. He had long, immaculate white hair, which at the moment was tied back. His white beard flowed down to the middle of his chest. He jumped forward at an incredible speed, deftly swinging his weapon at the second with both hands. The younger, about twenty, with vibrant, deep blue eyes and blond hair, whipped his blade up at almost the same speed and parried the blow. He then flipped the hilt from his right hand to his left, catching it upside down and spinning on his left heel. The steel whistled through the air and clipped the tip of his opponent's blade. However, the rain had lubricated the metal, and it grazed off and landed flat in the mud. The older man twisted his claymore up and drove it forward. The younger man doubled over backward, reaching for his broadsword at the same time. Closing his fingers around the leather-wrapped hilt, he finished into a back flip, and landed crouched, defensive. The old man smiled knowingly and held his own weapon across his chest, pommel to the right.

"It won't work this time Zadok," he said.

The younger prepared for his attack. He leaped forward, swinging his sword up and to the right in a diagonal slash. As his opponent slowly brought his blade around for the parry, the twenty year old suddenly changed direction and curve the sword strait down. Caught off guard, the old man could only watch helplessly as his opponent clipped both his legs in the same swing. Feeling pain, he fell back and landed heavily. The victor twirled his blade around in one hand, bringing it slowly to point at the old man's neck. The savage gleam in his eye quickly turned humored as he laughed and dropped his broadsword. The old man chuckled too, and extended a hand for help up.

Still laughing, the young adult pulled the man up.

"How was that, Samuel?"

As he stooped to pick up the claymore and his own broadsword, he said, "I finally get this one back. I can't believe it took me seven spars to get it!"

The old man chucked again. "Ah, I will miss that one. It was my favorite of your blades."

"As it was mine. I couldn't believe it when I lost it to you."

"Well, guess I'll have to wager the cutlass next time!" replied the old man heartily. "Though you will have to fight less brutally. Nearly cut of my leg you did!"

The young man snorted. "I could never cut off your leg. It's too thick and I don't have the strength. However…" he trailed off as he jabbed at the man's leg with the tip of his reclaimed claymore. He laughed again as the old man retreated.

"Besides," he continued, "if your enemies won't soften their blows, why should I?"

"Hey, that's my line," complained the old man good-naturally.

"Well, let's at least get out of the rain. The only reason I fought today was because I really needed that claymore. I know how you are with 'the rules'. I have a tournament tomorrow and I planned to fight with it. Because of Rule 2, I almost lost hope."

The old man smiled. The two of them and the younger brother of the Zadok belonged to a group by the name of Sword. Samuel was a strong advocate of "the rules".

"Ah yes," said Samuel. "I had hoped to fight with that, but you have won it fair and square."

"Who says you can't?" piped up a second voice. "I might be able to win it for you."

The grandfatherly gentleman glanced at the young man standing on the porch leaning against a support beam and chuckled. "Ah, but if you could Abiathar. I mean you no offence, but Zadok has all the moves I have and even some I don't. He is becoming a fine warrior, and will soon know The Secret. I can raise him to a level 5 by the end of the tournament."

"Well, thanks Samuel, but I don't know if I'd go _that_ far," replied Zadok gratefully.

"Well, I'd still like to try," said Abiathar, "I need the experience if nothing else. How about… my saber against your claymore."

"That sounds reasonable, though I would like to offer the 7th. I'll toss in a scimitar. How does that sound?"

"You'd do that?" cried Abiathar in an unbelieving voice. "That rarely happens these days."

"He's right you know," cut in Samuel. "Some say it violates Rule 1."

"No, they don't think that. It's just an excuse to get out of offering a blade when fighting an obviously lesser opponent. How are they going to get better if they have no swords and they're dejected because they lost so many times"

"If your sure," said Samuel.

"I am," said Zadok, "he's my little brother, and he only has two swords anyways."

"Thanks Zadok!" cried Abiathar. "I'll be right back."

He soon reappeared with his prized saber that he kept locked in his room. He possessed another sword, a once elegant rapier (suspiciously like that of a level 5), but it was old and tarnished from many years of use. He kept that in the basement in his chest. Samuel and Zadok also had their own chests in which to store swords. The two stood in the middle of the yard and prepared. They both locked into fighting stances and waited. Abiathar attacked first, swinging his gleaming weapon over his head. He twirled it once, then brought it down in a tomahawk chop. For being the youngest of the organization, he had credible strength in his limbs. Zadok parried the blow sideways, and then effortlessly spun the claymore in his palm. As it whipped around toward Abiathar's side, Abiathar neatly twisted his saber upside down and deflected it. Taking advantage of the brief breach, he spun the sword right side up and followed through toward Zadok's left arm. Dropping his weapon, Zadok flipped back and landed crouching. He slowly stood and waited. Abiathar ran forward again, driving his sword toward Zadok's chest. The tips were blunted and had rubber tips, so there was nothing to fear, but it would count as a loss. Abiathar was just steps away when the older jumped. He completed a front flip over his opponent's head, scooping up his fallen blade as he somersaulted back up. Spinning to face him again, Zadok pointed the sword at Abiathar and drew his left hand back. As Zadok beckoned to him, Abiathar coiled up, ready to pounce. He danced forward, striking in random places like a snake. Zadok held the claymore with one hand and parried every blow. As Abiathar stepped forward to take another strike, his foot hit a mud slick and he fell on his back. Zadok pointed his claymore at Abiathar's chest and then withdrew, helping him to his feet. As the younger of the two fumbled in the mud for his saber, Zadok retreated to the basement to return with a scimitar. The sword wasn't especially stunning, for it had been used before, but it was still in fairly good condition.

"I don't even know if I lasted twenty seconds, let alone thirty," said Abiathar, disappointment seeping into his voice.

"Wait, wait," said Samuel, "yep, you did. Thirty-three seconds. I timed the match."

"Here you go," said Zadok. "My scimitar. I'll have to get one from someone else now."

"No doubt you will!" cried Abiathar. "I've never seen anyone do a flip like that in driving rain. Speaking of which, let's get inside."

The three of them entered the house together. The cozy house wasn't very big, but it was comfortable nonetheless. There was a high backed bench up against the east wall and a homemade rocker to the south, Samuel's make. A small stand made of ash sat directly across the room from the chair, a bright red ruby resting on it. An older gentleman around the age of seventy sat in the chair, snoring comfortably. Zadok and Abiathar looked at him fondly.

He was there grandfather that had taken care of them ever since that fateful day when their house was destroyed. Their parents were missing, and they were only kids when the police announced that there was no evidence to prove that the adults were dead or alive. The house had been completely demolished and there was nothing left. No items, possessions, or even human remains. So their grandpa Trover watched over them. However, he had been recently evicted from his house, and had nowhere to turn. So Samuel, who had been a neighbor and a family friend, sheltered them.

The trio went into the kitchen and had a bite to eat. As Zadok poked at his chicken and a lump of corn, Abiathar admired his newly won weapon. A few minutes into the meal, Samuel brought up the tournament.

"I'm definitely in," said Zadok. "I hear the winner gets to take on Aries."

"I don't like him," put in Abiathar, "or the Elder."

"Well, he's the best in the club," said Zadok, "I want to fight him just to see what I can do."

"Be careful when facing him though," said Samuel in a tone that hinted he knew more than he was saying.

"I know-" he started to say, but was cut off by a crash coming from the great room. The first one up, Zadok dashed into the room, broadsword drawn. Trover stood backed into the corner, unsuccessfully defending him self with a broken table leg. The ruby that was resting on the ash stand (now crushed) was being held in the arms of a black robed figure whose face was shrouded in a dark hood. He held a short iron sword and was beating Trover with the flat sides of the blade. Enraged, Zadok ran into the room swinging his own blade wildly. He engaged the attacker with vicious swings and fought him for a good ten minutes. When both realized they possessed equal skill, the burglar hurled the melon-sized stone at Zadok. It met his shin with a bone crunching report. The black shrouded man ran out the door, now hanging on one hinge, un-pursued by anyone in the household. Zadok sat blinking back tears. The area where the ruby hit was already swelled and bruised. Samuel examined it.

"Looks like it damaged the bone, though it doesn't seem to be broken. You'll have to stay off that leg for a while."

Zadok was horrified. "But then I can't compete!" he retorted. "I trained for months to see if I'd get in."

Samuel frowned. "I'm very sorry Zadok, but you can't fight like this. It may cause permanent injury."

Zadok growled. But then Trover cut in.

"May I suggest something?" he asked timidly.

"Be my guest." Samuel replied.

"I don't know much about this Sword, or whatever it's called, but are there anything in the rules about entering the tournament under another name? Like a 'tournament name' or what not?"

Samuel's face twisted in thought. "You know, I'm on the committee of elders, and I do not believe there is such a rule. Why, what are you getting at?"

"Well, I've seen Abiathar fight. If he entered for Zadok, under Zadok's name, what would happen?"

All three faces lit up. "Nothing," said Samuel, realizing what Trover meant. "Zadok would get the prize, Abiathar the credit, and no one would be the wiser. And best of all, it's perfectly legal. It's even been done before, if I recall correctly."

Zadok looked hopefully at Abiathar. "Will you do it?" he asked.

"Of course," Abiathar said.

"Then it's settled," Samuel cut in. "Tomorrow, Abiathar will face off in the championship tournament."


	2. Chapter 2

All the same stuff applies. I don't own anything.

Abiathar flew through the brackets. Within two days he was in the semifinals and climbing. Samuel said it would help tremendously in graduating to a level 3. Within the next day, he was fighting for first place. Zadok was blown away by his brother's progress, and was at every match. On the day of the championship match, Aries took the seat next to the Elder to see which one he would be sparring that afternoon. Abiathar and his opponent Ziba, who was a good friend of Zadok's, fought for the upwards of fifteen minutes.

Both teetered dangerously on the edge of losing at numerous parts of the battle, but Abiathar's endurance held out, and he beat Ziba for the championship. Zadok was on his feet waving his claymore even with his left leg splinted. Abiathar called him into the ring and let him take the prize of 500 dollars. He himself had the pleasure of removing Ziba's double daggers from there sheathes and admiring them.

A few hours later, Zadok was in Aries' seat beside the Elder watching two figures stretch on the sparring field. Abiathar he recognized, but he had only seen Aries occasionally. The man had jet-black hair, a striking face that attracted flocks of girls, and a muscular build. Zadok's fingers danced across his claymore's hilt wildly with anticipation. Abiathar and Aries locked into battle and there was sweat flinging within five minutes. No one had ever seen such a fierce fight. The once brilliant saber Abiathar held had and uncountable amount of dings, scratches, and dents in it from the ferocious battle. Abiathar was getting tired, and, much to Zadok's annoyance, Aries was taking advantage of that. His rapier flew, scoring repetitive blows on Abiathar's blade. Abiathar collapsed and sat waiting for the judge to ring the bell to end the match. But to Zadok's amazement and horror, Aries waved him off. He then proceeded to raise his rapier high above his head. Zadok knew what he was doing, and looked to the Elder. The sight made him sick. The Elder was leaning eagerly forward in his chair, waiting for the slaughter. The metal whistled through the air, a sound of his brother's doom. Wide-eyed, Abiathar rolled to the right and the blade thudded into the dirt. Aries glared at him with a savage stare. "No one fights me and wins. He loses… _everything…_even his life."

All was quiet. Zadok was petrified. Samuel wasn't there, and the Elder was not about to stop the transaction. Abiathar was exhausted and couldn't last much longer. Zadok couldn't take it. He jumped up and leaped over the barrier that divided the field from the stands. Everyone stared at him, amazed. The claymore was in his hands in a second. Aries straitened and glared at him sideways. Abiathar silently scurried away from the two. After a time span that seemed to last an eternity, Aries spoke.

"Don't play hero." His voice was smooth yet… cold. "If your brother can't take care of himself, he is a burden. He needs to die. You don't stand a chance, especially with your leg like that. Give it up, and I'll make it painless for him."

Zadok glared with hatred at him.

"You know," Zadok said after another long pause, "I've heard that uncontrolled rage can blind a warrior. However, I have found that reigned rage is a most formal adversary. With that, he jumped forward with his right leg lashing out. His sword spun, blurred by the speed with which he swung it. He beat relentlessly on the blade held by Aries. Even for the best fighter in Sword, and on top of that Zadok's damaged leg, Aries had a hard time. After almost half an hour of combat, Zadok had had enough. His focusing anger and hatred was distracted for a moment. In the risers was an anxious face that he recognized well.

It was Tamar. The attractive girl had assigned herself the role of a kind of servant to him. Aries had despised Zadok for it. But Zadok never accepted the idea. Oh, how well he could remember it. They were both little older than eleven at the time. She and her friend Ahinoam were walking home from the market to her house. Her family lived almost a day's walk from town. Zadok and Abiathar had only just joined Sword at the time. A group of about five boys were making rude comments about her and her friend. They tried to ignore them, but Zadok and Abiathar, who were secretly following them, (a "test mission" they had put upon themselves) could see that they were near tears. So Zadok rushed to their rescue. Drawing the double daggers he always, even to his day, kept in his sleeves, he slid between the two figures and the bullies. Abiathar rushed to the girls and stood in front of them, holding a single dagger he happened upon. Laughing, the larger boys stepped up to apprehend him. But to their surprise, Zadok struck. He dove between one's legs with the daggers spread out. The boy toppled to the dirt, calves bleeding profusely. Zadok turned to the one beside him. Cracking him on the head with the pommel of his left-handed dagger, Zadok then spun and had slapped another in the face with the flat of his blade. After recovering, the slapped one snarled and grabbed Zadok's wrist. Abiathar jumped forward and slashed at the boy's forearm until he let go, then kicked him in the face. The remaining group members fled, screaming. Ever since then, Tamar never left Zadok's side.

Renewed from the recalled memory, he unleashed a devastating swing. Aries' rapier was broken from his grasp and flipped through the air. It embedded itself in the wall 50 feet from the combat area. The claymore was at his throat. Eyes that held such rage that they seemed red stared unwavering down the shining steel. Zadok's voice faltered with rage.

"I should strike you down now and feed you to the birds," he said quietly. "But Christians don't do that, and apparently we need you. So I'll leave you be. But if you so much as look sideways again at me, my brother, or anyone else, I'll let you come face to face with God."

Slowly the claymore lowered.

Silence.

Everyone was shocked. The sound of unconscious bodies thudding to the wood was heard as those who were older and younger fainted from anticipation. Aries nodded solemnly. In a barley audible voice, Aries said firmly,

"Is this a blood feud then?"

Zadok considered his words for a moment then replied,

"Only if we make it one. I am commanded to love you from a power higher than anyone in the world is or ever was, so I am not calling sides. But I will accept if you pursue."

Aries' eyes snapped up. He smiled, but this time it was intended to be kind.

"Good. I had hoped not to become mortal enemies with one who can strike down the Elder with a single dagger." He offered his hand. Slowly but surely, Zadok grasped it. They shook once, and the entire crowd went wild. Abiathar staggered over, and the noise stopped abruptly. You could cut the tension in the air with a knife as Abiathar glared at Aries.

A long, long silence ensued.

Abiathar coughed weakly and stumbled forward. Aries caught him and gently set him down.

"I-I… apologize. That beating your brother gave me allowed me to clear my head. I don't know why, but this amity was created as soon as I saw you. All I could think about was

how much I wanted to kill you, but I-I don't know why." His voice expressed true sorrow and confusion. "When I saw your brother leap over the wall, I panicked. With you, I felt I could win, but the same power that made me hate you made me fear your brother. Please, accept my deepest sorrow." He bowed his head.

A tear fell to the dirt.

"I… accept." Abiathar said finally. Aries looked relived. Supporting the two brothers, he took them over to the high seats, where the Elder sat, terrified. He cowered against the back of his tall leather chair. Just then Samuel arrived. He ran up to meet Zadok and Abiathar. Aries set them down gently and slowly stalked toward the Elder's chair. Samuel stiffened. Silently, Aries grasped the right armrest of the high-backed leather chair. He tore the chair out of its rivets in the floor and flipped it over. The Elder flew out and crashed into the wall of the viewing booth. He slid down the smooth cedar and slumped to the floor. Aries strode over to his quivering body and grabbed him by the collar. Lifting him clear off the floor, he looked him strait in the eye. The Elder whimpered as he waited for Aries to speak. He did.

"How could you let me do that?"

"We agreed that-"

"I don't care what we agreed on! What kind of leader are you, to even think of permitting me to carry the plan out?" snapped Aries.

The Elder's eyes darkened over. Brookfield tensed even more. Aries held his firm grasp on the collar of the Elder's shirt. Suddenly, a dark bolt of electricity shot from the Elder and pinned Aries up against the opposite wall. Convulsing from the shock, Aries threw himself to the floor. Brookfield stepped between the two and bowed his head, eyes closed.

"Xatame," he said after a long pause. "You still refuse to quit hounding me."

"So true," said a voice, much, much deeper than the Elder's, though it came from his mouth. "I can never seem to learn," it said sarcastically.

With a scream, a translucent beast emerged from the Elder's body. It looked much like a centaur, but still different in many ways. As it solidified, its features became evident. The horse's body and legs were so black, you immediately thought something incredibly evil was using them. The man's torso was rippling with muscle, and a torn tunic hung loosely over it. His head had a sharp, almost triangular chin, clean shaven and sunken cheeks. His eyes were set back and they were black as night. On his baldhead were two short, sharp horns. Samuel spoke.

"You know I can beat you as easily as I can smash a fly," he said.

"Yes, I know. So I will see you in the near future. I depart from your… most _gracious_ booth. Until we meet again, warrior," he stated. Oddly enough, he directed this comment at Zadok. The centaur laughed as he dissipated. Zadok's strength failed him as the creature faded. Tamar cried out hoarsely and ran up to the booth as he fell. Abiathar bolted over to Aries to examine him. Samuel followed closely behind, mumbling something to him self. Abiathar propped Aries up and put his ear close to his mouth.

"Alive," he said after a moment.

"Hmm," said Samuel. "I thought you didn't like him."

"Well, I didn't…" Abiathar said slowly, "but he had a change of heart. He almost killed me, but then he apologized. He seemed truly sorry. That's why he stood up to the Elder like he did."

Samuel shook. "What?" he cried. Then he rocked back and considered what Abiathar said. "Now it makes sense…" he trailed off. Aries attended to, Abiathar turned back to Zadok. Tamar had removed his cloak and rolled it into a pillow for him. She gently looked him over to see if he had any injuries. His left leg had swelled again, but that was the extent of it. Abiathar motioned her away then lifted Zadok onto his shoulder. His legs strained under the wait, but he pressed on down the stairs. Gathering up his cloak and sword, Tamar followed silently. Abiathar strapped Zadok into his horse Solomon' saddle. Tamar sat in front of Zadok and guided the horse in a slow trot. Then vaulting up onto his

own mount, Samson, Abiathar rode beside them.


	3. Chapter 3

The sounds of festivities filled the great hall of the palace. Lutes, tambourines, bells, and drums played merry songs as people danced around. Some of the men held mock battles, claymores, daggers, sabers, and scimitars flying here and there. Abruptly, the two huge oak doors swung out and there stood Zadok.

The festivities stopped.

He was dressed in brand new white plate armor with a flowing gold cape behind him. An empty rapier sheath hung at his left side on a belt of new leather. Light flowed in from behind him, giving even the dust in the air a merry appearance. He stepped forward and Tamar presented herself beside him. Her dress was vibrant red. Rubies were sown into the cuffs of the sleeves. She slipped his arm through his and strode forward. Samuel stood at the opposite end of the room holding an elegant sword. The rapier was stunning. The reinforced steel blade had carved figures that, in Hebrew, meant "Stealthy Warrior". This was Zadok's title. Every level five received one. Samuel's was "Wise One". The handle was made up of five seamlessly fused bands of speckled ivory. The hand guard was solid gold. Three prongs emanated from the base of the steel blade to make it up. The three gold prongs met at the bottom of the handle in a sharp point. The gold was inlaid with authentic rubies, all the way down to the point. Behind Samuel was another sword, a richly ornamented broadsword. As Zadok took another step, the crowd separated to allow him to pass. Abiathar followed appeared behind. At his side was Ahinoam. Abiathar was dressed in light blue armor, a similar style to Zadok's. Behind him flowed a dark sea blue cape. At his side was also a scabbard, fit for a broadsword. Ahinoam was wearing a dark indigo dress with sapphires in the cuffs. The procession strode forward. The gathered men and women applauded as Zadok and Abiathar separated from their escorts and accepted the swords from Samuel. They both turned around and raised their blades. The audience cheered all the more as they took them and slammed them down into their scabbards. Abiathar was now a level four. Zadok, now a five. Abiathar grasped Zadok's shoulder and shook his opposite hand. He then left the platform and retook Ahinoam's arm. They melded with the rest of the observers. Tamar gazed up at Zadok and Samuel with awe and admiration. Zadok briefly smiled at her and then turned. He strode up to the thick red velvet curtain that Samuel then drew back. The noise died down yet again as they solemnly watched the event. Zadok would now be told The Secret. Samuel followed him as he stepped over the threshold and the curtain fell. The music picked up and the festivities continued. In the meeting room, Zadok took his place on the floor around a low, round table. Samuel sat on his left, and an empty chair on his right. This was the Elder's chair, but he was not here presently for obvious reasons. Zadok saw Aries among the group. He looked up and flashed Zadok a grin before one of the other Elder's stood to speak.

"That's Eli," whispered Samuel.

"Welcome to the table," said Eli in a jovial voice. "Again, thy Elder's, another falls victim to the skill of the sword." Everyone chucked at this irony. In a more serious tone, he continued. "You have now earned the right to be held rank among the masters. And now, your reward." The veteran members leaned forward with anticipation. Every one of them had heard this secret before, but it was habitual to apprehend it's foretelling. "You know well of the king, yes?" asked Eli.

Zadok shuddered, and then nodded.

"I see that you cringe at the mentioning of Ahab. As did all of us in this meeting. We are working in secret to overthrow him. You must travel to Endor to speak to the duke there. We are on friendly relations with him, and he is our eyes and ears in the castle. He must know of you advancement and availability."

Zadok was speechless. Everyone hated this ruthless king, but no one dared challenge him. His marriage made him the strongest military force in the world. Betrothed to Jezebel, the strongest army in the world was at his fingertips to do his bidding. The nation grumbled to them selves about his taxation and oppression, but everyone feared him and they were silenced in the presence of anyone loyal to him. Zadok was still trying to comprehend this but Eli continued.

"No one other than the most elite warriors can know this. You must take an oath that you will tell no one of this except other level five Sword members. Only they can be trusted with the loyalty of keeping the secret. They know and understand the consequences."

Zadok took the oath and then cut his palm with his new sword and signed the documents in blood. Then Eli dismissed them to the festival for the new level five and level four. Zadok slowly left the room. As he pondered this new amount of knowledge, Aries met up with him at the curtain.

"Hey, don't be so excited to get out there. You'll hurt yourself," he said chuckling. Zadok smiled.

"Tamar will get worried that you left her," Aries went on, still grinning. Zadok lightly punched him in the shoulder.

"You win."

After the festival, Zadok and Abiathar trudged out to their horses. Samuel had already left in his carriage. The moon cast a sliver light over the palace steps, making the armor of the men shine. They were half walking with, half dragging the girls. Abiathar was on his mount first, with Ahinoam sitting in the saddle behind him draped dozing across his back. Zadok lifted Tamar into the saddle and put his foot in the stirrup.

An arrow whizzed past his head.

He reached for his sword and knocked a second arrow out of the air that was targeting Tamar. The flinthead struck steel with a spark that illuminated the area and spooked Solomon. Rearing up, he threw Tamar through the air and caught a third arrow in his chest. The poor horse screamed in pain and fell onto his front knees, blood already pooling in front of him. Abiathar vaulted off of his saddle, broadsword ready. Tamar crawled over to the crippled beast and slowly began to remove the arrow. Samson bolted with Ahinoam away from the scene. Abiathar nodded to his beast as it turned, making it stayed put, out of reach from the projectiles. Zadok and Abiathar ran into the now steady stream of arrows, their armor dented and scratched from them. An arrow hit Zadok's hand. He grit his teeth and ripped it out with a grunt, never faltering in his pace. The arrows stopped coming as they got closer and they heard the retreat of boots on cobblestone. The pair halted until they were sure the would-be assassins were gone. Blood dripping from his left palm, Zadok grimly turned and strode back to his wheezing horse. Ripping a section from his elegant cloak, he made a temporary torrent for Solomon. With Abiathar's permission, he rode atop Samson back to Samuel's farmhouse, galloping the entire way. Patting the horse's nose, he silently he drew out the carriage used for transporting goods to town. After kicking out the back panel, he hitched it to Samson. Ignoring the burning pain in his hand, he galloped as fast as he dared push his brother's animal back to his own horse. When he got there, Tamar was crying.

"No!" Zadok screamed.

Abiathar shook his head. "He's still alive, but he lost a lot of blood. I don't know if he'll make it.

"If he doesn't, those coward bowmen will regret the day they ever laid eyes upon me. This horse saved my life. That third arrow was aimed at me." He then alighted to Solomon and hoisted him into the cart. The axels groaned with resistance. Turning to his brother, he said, "Can you take him back to the farm? Samuel will know how to heal him. I would, but he needs to get back as fast as possible, and only you know Samson's full potential. I would, but I would probably exhaust him dangerously."

Without a word, Abiathar and Ahinoam mounted Samson and galloped off into the night.

Zadok kneeled down next to Tamar.

"Samuel will heal him. I know that man too well."

Tamar looked hopefully up at him. He smiled down to her. It was too much. She buried her face in his right shoulder and let out another long sob. Zadok was overwhelmed.


	4. Chapter 4

"Of all the low, rotten, cowardice things to do!"

Aries paced the floor, uttering a string of insults like this.

"They will pay dearly for this!" he burst out again.

Zadok sat, his armor with its amassed scratches and dents, in a small wooden chair. His legs were crossed, and his hands were laced around his knee. Tamar sat next to him on a wooden stool. She was sound asleep with her head resting on Zadok's left shoulder. Aries continued on, vowing to get back at those who shot Zadok's horse. Abiathar burst into the room.

"Samuel wants to see you Zadok," he said quietly.

Slowly rising, he gathered Tamar into his arms and carried her out of the great hall onto the cobble stone street. Samuel's carriage was waiting for him. Samson, ground tied, pawed the ground next to it. He laid Tamar down on the bench then gathered up the reigns in his good hand. Samuel's horse, Mephibosheth, was joined to the carriage. It was almost one in the morning when he pulled up to Samuel's house. Leaving Tamar in the seat, he walked to the barn. Mephibosheth whinnied nervously. He trudged slowly into the barn. His boots crushed the brittle straw that had been laid down last week. Samuel looked up from working on Solomon's wound. The horse's breath came in labored gasps.

"Is it… bad?" he asked, longing for and dreading the answer at the same time.

Samuel didn't answer. Zadok studied a ceiling beam while he waited. Minutes past.

"Yes. It is very bad," said Samuel finally. "The only way he has a hope is if you travel to Endor and speak to Doeg. He makes special use of herbs and can create a tonic to heal Solomon's infection. Otherwise he'll die. I can keep him alive until then, but do not take too long. You can take Mephibosheth with you."

Zadok nodded once. Slowly he strode out of the barn. He punched the support post on Solomon's stall on the way out. Tamar was awake by the time he got outside.

"What's the matter?" she asked, pulling her arms close around her to ward off the cold.

"I have to go to Endor. I must speak to the duke and to a man named Doeg," said Zadok, pulling off his cape to give to her.

Tamar looked dismayed. "But that's almost two weeks travel, even on horseback," she said sadly. "I won't see you for a long time."

"I'll have Mephibosheth," said Zadok quickly. "And Solomon will only live if I get a tonic from Endor."

Tamar bowed her head in submission. "I'll pack you some things."

Zadok smiled. "Thank you. I'll work on tempering my armor so it doesn't hurt to wear."

So Tamar hurried to the house and Zadok walked again into the barn. His knuckles hurt from the beam. He carefully removed his armor, grunting as its sharp edges scraped his arrow cut. He laid the top half out on the anvil in the back and reached for his hammer. As he did, Abiathar strode into the room.

"Samuel told me you were leaving."

Zadok said nothing and started to pound the dents out from the inside.

"I'm coming with you."

Again, Zadok did not respond. Abiathar watched as he expertly smoothed the ragged edges and dents out of the numerous plates.

"Fine," he said after a while. "We leave tomorrow at sunup. Make sure you have enough supplies for yourself to last a fortnight."

"Ziba is coming too. He has his horse. I'll tell him to gather his things." Abiathar spun on his heel and strode out the door, closing it behind him. Zadok shook his head and continued his work.


	5. Chapter 5

"It is agreeable to see you," Zadok said. He was sitting on Samuel's porch in a long, low oak bench beside Tamar. Up the steps came two more familiar faces. One was his friend Ziba. He had dark hair and hazel eyes. On his chin was a short beard, which had only just started to grow. His steel armor gleamed in the gold morning light. Tamar jumped up and embraced his companion Hannah. She and Ziba were courting. Tamar and Hannah walked into the house, talking happily to each other. Ziba laughed and sat in the wicker chair across from Zadok.

"So, I hear you're a level five now," Ziba said, suppressing a smile.

"Oh, come off it," Zadok shot back with a chuckle. "You were there."

"That rapier looked nice. Can I see it?"

The steel rasped as Zadok drew his sword and tossed it to Ziba.

"This is amazing!" he exclaimed as he examined it. "You must be very highly regarded among the masters. Aries sword isn't even equal to this."

Zadok shrugged. "It's nice."

Ziba snorted as he handed it back to its owner. "Your too modest. What all are you bringing?"

Zadok laughed hard. "Tamar's packing, so I have no idea. But as for my weapons, this obviously, my daggers, claymore, broadsword, and dirk."

"Does Mephibosheth have enough room for all that?"

"No, that's why I'm going to wear it all."

"How the heck you gonna do that?"

"I have my rapier, dirk, and daggers on me. My daggers, as always, are in my sleeves. My boot holds the sheath to the dirk. I'll wear my broadsword on my right and my claymore on my back."

Ziba turned to check his own horse, Kish. "I just brought my battle axe."

"Well, Abiathar is just bringing the scimitar he just won off of me, your daggers, and his broadsword. He's going to leave his saber and that old rapier here."

They talked idly for a while about dueling techniques. Abiathar came and joined them. After a while, Tamar appeared at the door with Ahinoam.

"Your supplies are ready," she said. "Hannah had to help me pack Ziba's. Sorry we took so long."

She briefly disappeared, then returned with all of Zadok's items. He got up to take them from her, and then strapped them to Mephibosheth's saddlebags, after which he walked down to the cellar by himself. Opening the cedar chest, which creaked on old hinges, he removed his claymore and broadsword. He strapped them on and clasped his old, faded cloak around his neck. He closed the chest, and then sadly looked at the emblem carved into the top. It was the sign his father had branded into Solomon's saddle when he first gave Zadok the young colt. He had also carved it into this traveling chest, which was one of the few things Trover had salvaged from the destroyed house. The sign was the Alpha and the Omega symbols over lapping each other. The tip of the Alpha was on top of the Omega arch, but the base of the two lines were behind the Omega bases. Zadok held his tears back and walked slowly up the stairs. Tamar was in the kitchen, preparing last minute food supplies with Ahinoam for Abiathar. As he trudged past the doorway, she glanced up and flashed a smile at him. But when she saw how sad he was, she rushed over to him.

"What's wrong?" she asked, concerned.

Zadok sighed. "I was thinking about Solomon. And… m-my father."

"Oh Zadok," she said sympathetically, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning her head against his chest. They stood like that for what seemed like forever, but it was only a few minutes. She kissed his cheek then backed away, embarrassed. She hurried back into the kitchen and started working again.

Outside, Hannah was saying good-bye to Ziba. Zadok left them alone and approached Abiathar. He was grooming Samson, preparing him for the long journey. He didn't have his armor on, just a simple brown tunic and leather hunting pants. He glanced up as Zadok came near.

"Hey, where's your armor?"

"I can't wear it. An arrow crushed the chest plate."

"I'll fix it for you."

"Fine. It's in my room."

After Zadok repaired the armor, he went to leave, then decided to bring his hammer along. "You never know," he thought as he shoved it into Mephibosheth's saddlebag.

He led the horse out of the stables. He joined the others as they said their last good-byes. Abiathar awkwardly hugged Ahinoam, but she was enthusiastic. Zadok grinned to himself. Hannah was reluctant to release Ziba, but he eventually persuaded her, saying he needed to protect Zadok. His smile grew. Samuel was awake by now, shaking hands with everyone and bellowing merry tidings to the party of three. Tamar dashed over to Zadok and gave him a quick hug, then grabbed his hand. "Samuel has something to say," she whispered.

"Be careful after you leave Ziklag," he said. "The man you seek, Doeg, is known for his arrogant personality and may give you a hard time. And always be on watch for highway robbers. You three would be a walking bank to them. And Zadok," he called out as they started to mount the horses.

"Yes?"

"Never loose you sword. You can only be trusted if you present it to the man."

"I won't," he called over his shoulder as they started to trot away.

They galloped out of the gate, and rode for a long time. As the sun sank lower into their eyes, they decided to make camp. Abiathar lit the fire while Zadok broke out the meat and cheese. They had to eat it before it spoiled.

After the meal, the spread out their bedrolls and sat around the fire, thinking. Ziba finally broke the silence.

"I can challenge you and not loose a weapon, right?" he questioned Zadok.

"Yep," Zadok replied without looking up from the fire. "You can fight Abiathar, too, without that risk. I can supervise it and dismiss the transaction. Samuel explained that.

"Then we need to practice. I don't want to get rusty from weeks of riding."

Zadok sighed, but removed his cape and armor. He drew his dirk from his boot, which got a chuckle from Ziba.

"You want to challenge my axe with that?" he laughed.

"It's a quick weapon. I need to train with it if I am going to defend from horseback."

Ziba shrugged and removed his battleaxe from the sash across his back. Without warning, Zadok rushed at him with his weapon pointed forward. Ziba swung the butt of his handle up to knock it out of its trajectory path. Swinging the blade of the axe around, he tried to take out Zadok's legs. The dirk-wielder dove over the descending weapon and rolled back up facing his opponent. He rushed forward again, this time with the dirk held coiled back behind him in his right hand. Ziba lifted the axe high above his head. Zadok flicked the dirk up in front of himself and caught the axe in the air. He let it slide off his knife, then stepped on it when it hit the ground. He wrapped his left arm around Ziba's neck and held the dirk to his throat. He dropped his arm away a second later and collapsed down onto his bedroll. Ziba mentally kicked himself.

"Your amazing," he said simply, without emotion or admiration. "No wonder Abiathar is the same level as I, regardless of joining three years after me.

They let the fire burn out on its own, long after they drifted to sleep. Ziba dreamt of Hannah. Abiathar's night was uneventful. However, Zadok's dream was very odd.

He saw himself lying on a dirt dueling field. A man he had never seen was about to drive the tip of a cutlass into his back. His eyes stared up at the man bringing the cutlass down, down, down…

Abiathar kicked him.

"Wake up," he grumbled irritably, as he always was in the morning. "I made breakfast."

Zadok could hear sausages sizzling on a stone by the fire. A hunk of bread sat covered by a blanket next to where Abiathar crouched. Zadok moaned then rubbed his eyes until they came into focus. Ziba was still in his bed, but he was sitting up and was sharpening his axe on a wheat stone. After the meal they got onto their mounts and rode while the sun was still low in the east, giving the road ahead a blood red hue. They continued this pattern for the many days on the road. Riding until the sun was in their eyes, dueling by the fire after their meal, then wearily crawling under their blankets to sleep. Zadok continued to have the dream, but he never saw the outcome or the events leading up to it. Yet the way the man handled the sword seemed familiar.


	6. Chapter 6

While traveling, many sights met their eyes. The rolling hills of Nob, the flat fields of farmers in Keilah, where the wheat and corn rippled and swayed like a golden sea. Once, in Jabesh, Abiathar's horse almost slid off one of the cliff side roads into the port city bay. However, the plains of Yazuac were very hospitable, more than likely the most inviting of all terrains in Alagaesia.

"_Too bad no one thinks that now," _though Zadok sadly. After the slaughter in Yazuac fifty years ago, the city never recovered.

After a week and a half, they reached Endor. At a bend in the Adullam River, a burly man with a pudgy face and a nose so flat it was almost just two holes in his face stopped them on the bridge. He wasn't much older than Zadok.

"Whoa there!" he called out. "What be your business in our fair town?"

"We seek and audience with the duke," replied Zadok.

"Well now, ain't that special! What makes you so sure the duke wants to speak to the likes of you?"

Zadok drew his rapier and displayed it on his palms to the man. He recognized the work of a Sword member.

"Oh, I'm sorry kind sirs," he said nervously, checking for his own weapon, thick, large headed spear. "Are both these men in with you too?"

"Yes. This is my brother, and this is a good friend of mine. Now, I don't mean to be rude, but we need lodging soon. I have a matter to settle with a man named Doeg after I speak with Duke Gera."

The man's large face fell. "That man is a sneaky one. If there is any way, I wouldn't recommend going to him."

"So my teacher told me," Zadok said gravely, returning his sword to its scabbard. "Unfortunately, only he can make the tonic I need."

"Well then, I don't mean to be a burden to you any longer. Please, go on. And if any other guards stop you, tell them Ammiel gives you his bidding and they'll let you go."

"Thank you, sir," Zadok said. "Any particular inn or tavern you recommend?"

"Our city is a fine place," he said proudly. "You needn't be worried about being uncomfortable or overcharged at any place you choose to stay."

Zadok thanked again the man and tossed him a coin. Amasa started to protest, but the horses had already galloped past and disappeared in a cloud of dust.

The bridge guard wasn't joking when he said the city was great. No one seemed to be depressed, or even sad. The party rode past people performing many different tasks. A woman hanging clothes out, or a man finishing off a chair or table for his family was seen throughout the town. Every citizen looked up from their work with a smile of acknowledgement, some even waved or said hello. They trotted up to the expensive house of Duke Gera. The house itself was relatively small, but battlements and fortifications occupied the surrounding land, so much so that it seemed he could protect the entire city within its walls if need be. A young boy, about ten, slowly stood from his position against the wall. Zadok dismounted. Abiathar and Ziba followed suit. The stable boy took the reigns from them, and Zadok pressed a coin into the child's hand as he took the horses to the duke's own stable. The three swordsmen strode into the elegant house, and were awed as they waited. Shields and swords hung from the wall, evidence of the duke's great wealth. Expensive silk curtains sectioned off the different rooms of the house. The mahogany floor panels made almost no sound as a maid approached.

"Oh, guests?" she said, surprised.

"Yes," Zadok said guardedly. The maid's surprise alarmed him. "We came to see Duke Gera."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"Well, ah, I don't know," replied Zadok. He turned to Abiathar. His brother shrugged.

"I'm terribly sorry, but I can't let you see the duke if you don't have an appointment." She started to push them out the door.

"I have this," Zadok said in desperation, removing his rapier from his side. The maid fell back startled. She started to yell for help, that is, until she recognized it.

"Oh, that is most definitely the work of Samuel," she said, more to herself then the men. "In that case, you must come in."

"I'm so, so sorry," the maid said in anguish as she sat them down in the duke's study. "I'm not allowed to let anyone in unless they have a written letter from the duke himself. You know, not everyone likes him."

"That's quite alright," said Abiathar reassuringly.

She brought out a tray with a small pitcher of tea and cups that Ziba recognized as a Japanese set. After almost an hour of waiting, Duke Gera appeared at the door.

The duke was advanced in his age, but he was younger than Samuel. He held himself like a man who knew he was in charge, but he wasn't cruel or intimidating. His sharp brown eyes were set under a thick brow. His nose was short and sharp at the tip. On his chin was a short beard with streaks of gray in it. He had on a green riding jacket and calf length riding pants. A riding crop showed under his left arm. As he seated himself down in his desk chair, Zadok wished they hadn't left their armor with their horses. He felt ashamed to be dressed with simple clothes in front of the grand duke.

"Welcome, fine swordsmen," the duke said, his voice a rumbling deep bass. "My maid tells me you are here on the business of Sword. One of you is a level five, yes?"

"That would be I, sir," said Zadok respectfully. He showed Duke Gera his blade.

The old man smiled. "Yes, I see. Now, if you two would be so kind, we need to be alone. What is about to transact is only for level five ears. Please do not be offended."

"That's alright. We understand," responded Abiathar as he and Ziba left the room.

When the pair had left, Gera stood and ambled over to a polished chest. Zadok presumed it was pine. The man removed a saber from the case and said, "Please forgive me, but I must fight you. You see, too many times have we been lied to. Spies will ambush a man that has come to see me and steal his sword that proves the man a worthy member. We have always managed to catch them (a word slip here or there gives them away), but I must test your ability to know that you earned that blade. On guard,"

Zadok complied and drew his own rapier. They both attacked at the same time, parrying and slashing equally. The room had been specially adapted for such ability tests as this, and Zadok knew it. He used the construction to his advantage; ducking and dodging behind a support pillar here, a table there. Three minutes into the battle, Gera raised his hand for halt.

"You are obviously quite a gifted swordsman," he remarked with sincerity. "Sit, we have much to discuss."

Zadok dropped back to his original seat. The duke returned to his desk. "I trust the Elder's have told you about the king, yes?"

Zadok nodded once.

"Good. That's one thing out of the way. I don't believe they told you about me, did they?"

"No sir. My teacher just sent me."

"I presumed as much. Well, I'll start at the beginning then. Ahab is my brother, the fool. At first, he had Israel's best intentions in mind. Then our mother fell ill. Endor's town herbalist, Doeg, created a special medicine to cure her. However, his price was very steep. Neither Ahab nor I had the money, but our dear mother needed that medicine badly. We struck a deal with Doeg that we would pay him back over the course of six months. The plan went along fine until a fleet of Ahab's finest merchant ships disappeared during the second month while transporting their wares south. My brother lost massive amounts of money due to the disappearance. We were slipping farther and farther into debt. Ahab was so desperate for the medicine that he married Queen Jezebel. She was extremely wealthy, but she was also the queen of Surda. You see, we've never been able to get along with them since Orrin's betrayal to Murtagh. Nevertheless, he paid off the debt completely in the fourth month. Again, all seemed well, until Jezebel's father started to pester her about Ahab's 'lenience' with his subjects. Apparently, being kind and empathetic toward your people is a crime. At any rate, she began to order him around. Not knowing what harm it could do, Ahab caved. Jezebel obtained complete control of Alagaesia, but only the Sword members and I know and understand this. She rules under the guise of Ahab, but he does almost nothing nowadays. Sometimes he'll send his superior army out to raid and plunder other towns for his sheer enjoyment, but other than that, Jezebel calls the shots. This is why Shimei started Sword."

Zadok had heard stories of Shimei. He had been a soldier in Jezebel's army, loyally following her. Until she became oppressive, that is. He lost all respect for her and resigned from the royal army. However, he was still an elite warrior. He organized Sword with his skill to what it is today. He is also, as you surely know, a decendent of Ajihad."

"This is also why I needed to know of you placement among the masters. You see, Ahab believes I am with him on this issue. He tells me almost everything, and I can deploy Sword members here and there to interfere with his plans."

They talked a little while longer about different thing, until Zadok excused himself to go see Doeg. He noticed the duke's face contorted with anger at even the mentioning of his name. "Cursed be that vermin," he scowled.


	7. Chapter 7

Zadok, Abiathar, and Ziba walked down the streets and alleyways to the herbalist's house. Everywhere, the people were happy. "The duke must have more power over his own the land than he let on," thought Zadok as they strode through town. "Everyone acts as if they are completely free from Ahab's control."

At the door of the herbalist's house, a youth, about eighteen, stopped them. He pointed a dagger at them and started at the men with slightly confused eyes beneath a mess of red hair.

"What is your business," he asked. The dagger started shaking when the boy saw the collection of swords Zadok wore.

"We came to see Doeg," Zadok said with a friendly smile. "I need a tonic."

"Wait here, I'll see if I can find him." The boy darted inside and returned a few minutes later. "Come in," he said shakily, "though I must warn you, father is quite upset at being interrupted during his meal."

He led them through maze of halls lined with cabinets and cases of every imaginable herbs and medicines. They past rooms with steaming cauldrons attended to by servants. In some rooms, attendants were caring for patients that were too sick to leave Doeg's house. Eventually, they came to the dining room. This room also had an amazing array of medicine cabinets, but the enormous man sitting at the table cut further inspection short.

"What do you want?" he demanded fiercely, wiping his mouth with a dirty napkin.

Doeg was huge. His facial features were almost lost in his pudgy face. Zadok could barely make out two small black circles in the eye sockets with a chronic squint. His nose poked out from between his bulging cheeks, obviously broken many times. Food crumbs were all over the front of his rumpled shirt, the original color of which was impossible to tell. He wiped the napkin across his huge mouth again and scowled angrily.

"Well met, Sir Doeg. My name is Zadok, and I came to request a tonic."

"Yeah, what for?" he said annoyed.

"My horse was shot with an arrow. It hit him in the chest and the wound became infected. My teacher told me that you were able to make a special tonic to cure the infection."

Doeg took out a gold toothpick and dislodged a food particle from his teeth. "I could," he said indifferently. "How much would you pay?"

"Name your price."

The huge man flashed a wicked smile. "The price is six hundred shekels. But before you decide, I'd like to offer a bargain. I see you have your own blade, and I wish to duel you. If I win, you pay double the price. If you win, you pay half. However, I must warn you that I have battled every fighting man in Endor, and have yet to lose. Now, do we have a deal?"

"That sounds fair enough. And with your reputation, it should be an interesting fight. Yes, I accept." He said this with sincerity, but Abiathar and Ziba smiled to themselves. Doeg didn't stand a chance.

"The fight will take place tomorrow on the public field in the center of town. My son Abiel can show you around." He dismissed them coolly, swaggering to check on a patient.

Outside, Abiel gave and exasperated sigh. "I'm very sorry for my father's actions," he apologized. "I have a horse of my own, so I know how this feels. He has been sick many times before, also."

Zadok stopped and looked at the boy quizzically. "Why do you apologize for another man's actions?" Ziba asked.

Abiel shrugged. "I'm just ashamed that he is so indifferent toward your plight. I only hoped that you wouldn't kill him in your duel."

Zadok laughed. "What makes you so sure that he will lose? You've never seen me fight."

Abiel held up an index finger then motioned to the left. A maid hurried past with a tray of raw ingredients for a medicine Doeg was to make. When she had past through the door to the house, Abiel whispered, "I cannot speak freely with them around. Wait until we reach town. Zadok, Abiathar, and Ziba led their horses since Abiel didn't have his. Again, they were stricken by the pleasantry of the people. Even at the sparing ring, where two women battled with knives, the opponents themselves smiled to each other and apologized when the slashed the other or were over aggressive. A small crowd was watching.

"I know who you are," Abiel stated suddenly. "You are all Sword members."

Abiathar half drew his broadsword, but Ziba stopped him and asked, "How did you come across this knowledge?"

"I am the stable boy at Duke Gera's house. There is a special cream that my father makes that makes your appearance younger." He showed them a bottle of it. "I am a good friend of Duke Gera. He doesn't tell me the secrets, but he lets me meet certain members and sometimes I perform tasks for them. I can't tell my father, though," he added sadly. "I just wish he weren't so cruel. I have to sneak out while he is drunk, and if I'm caught, he beats me, refuses to feed me, and locks me in my room. There have been solid weeks I've spent locked in my room without food."

Zadok was taken aback. "How can a man be so oppressive of his own son?" he thought. "This boy is well behaved and obedient. He doesn't deserve this." Abiathar was fuming and started to rave about Doeg, but Ziba silenced him by stepping on his foot. Zadok took Abiel's shoulder. The boy's head hung. Zadok wanted to comfort him, but could not find words that would do any good. His hand fell away and he said weakly, "I hope to see you at the fight tomorrow." Abiel half-shrugged and walked away without looking up. The three stayed silent on their way to the nearest inn, wrapped in their own thoughts about Doeg and Abiel.


	8. Chapter 8

The crowd was enormous. The entire city had heard of this stranger that would fight the town champion. The ring had to be boarded up to keep the spectators from getting involved with the fight. Soldiers were called in to keep the peace. Abiathar, Ziba, and Abiel were permitted to sit inside the wall, for all of them knew the opponents very well. As Zadok stretched, Doeg simply stood there. A few times he had drawn his cutlass to performed a few practice moves and attacks. Finally, the match supervisor called for the duel to start. Zadok fought defensively for the first part of the fight, trying to determine the level of intensity he should do battle. At first, his slashes were easy, for Doeg seemed inexperienced against the level five. But as the large man became more confident, Zadok was forced to become more and more violent, until both swordsmen had reached their peak of skill. No one could see either of the swords, for they flew faster than an arrow. At one point, however, Zadok stumbled on an uneven patch of ground. Off balance, Doeg knocked the rapier from his hand. Zadok crumpled to his knees, then fell on his face. Abiathar and Ziba were stunned. Doeg twirled his cutlass around and jabbed at Zadok's back. He raised it above his head. Zadok understood.

It was his dream. The man in the dream was Doeg, and he was about to kill him. Everything played out the same, the sound of the cutlass, and the look on the man's face. Zadok decided the outcome, slowly rolling to the left as the sword came down. Heaving up onto his hands and knees, he crawled over to his rapier. He fell onto his back again as he heard Doeg approaching. Zadok whisked the rapier up in front of him and caught the cutlass three inches from his own face. He tried to kick Doeg in the gut, but the man's bulk protected him. Zadok leaped up and continued the fight, but very weakly. Doeg obviously had the upper hand. Zadok was losing hope, desperately trying to think of something that would help, when he remembered a certain move Samuel had taught him when he became a level three. Zadok backed Doeg into the corner, then backpedaled and dropped flat onto his chest. As Doeg stepped forward, Zadok scrunched into a ball and rolled forward. When he was upside down, arms bent and palms on the ground beside his head, he released. Propelled into the air by his arms, his feet caught Doeg full in the face. The man toppled over unconscious against the wall. The recoil from the technique sent Zadok crashing face first into the dirt. Spiting out soil, he stood and looked to the match supervisor. He eagerly rang the bell, pronouncing Zadok the winner. A rush went through the crowd, but not quite a cheer. They couldn't believe that Doeg had lost a match. But they were by no means upset. When they finally comprehended that Zadok had won, that's when they cheered. It was the loudest applause the young level five warrior had received in his entire career. They were finally freed of Doeg's reputation. No longer could he brag that he was the best sword wielder, for he had been beaten before their eyes. Abiel had mixed emotions, first happy that his father had finally been humbled, then angry because Doeg would be fuming and bad-tempered at home. Zadok showed better sportsmanship then was common also, because he himself strapped Doeg to Mephibosheth and transported him home. He struggled to lift the man into his house, and finally had to be helped by Ziba to get him through the door to his room. When he recovered, it was as Abiel had thought. He was fuming.

"You cheated!" he exclaimed accusingly. "It was a sword duel, and you shouldn't have been allowed to do that!"

"No, he didn't cheat," cut in Abiel.

"Whose side are you on?" demanded Doeg angrily. In his rage, he reached for the nearest object, which happened to be a small clay pot, and hurled it at his son.

Something clicked in Zadok's brain. He thought back to the many nights on the road when he awoke pestered by the familiarity of the man in his dream. He recalled the recent fight and how Doeg used his blade.

"You!" he screamed, barely keeping himself from running the man through with one of his many swords. "You broke into Samuel's house and attacked my grandfather!"

Abiathar thought back to the day when the black shrouded man came and tried to steal Samuel's ruby. Ziba had to restrain him when he made the connection and lunged at Doeg. The enormous man chuckled. "Yes, I did, and I will not make your tonic. You can kill me, but that would just make my decision sealed."

Abiel lost every ounce of respect for his father in that moment. He spat in his direction then stalked out of the room. Doeg, indifferent toward his son, simply rolled over into a more comfortable position and promptly fell asleep. Zadok and Ziba had to drag Abiathar away the man's bed so that he would not kill him. They followed Abiel, not saying anything. Doeg's son finally stopped at a heavy door made of darkened wood. He stared for a long time at this door without speaking. When he did, it was with new found independence. "This is the door to my father's workroom. I have studied the art of medicine making alongside him since I could see over the table. I will make your tonic. The only payment I require is that you take me with you when you leave Endor."

"You would leave your father's household, risking your entire future, for three strangers that show up at you door one day asking for medicine?" Ziba demanded.

"Yes," Abiel said simply.

The three exchanged quick glances, shrugging. "We see no harm in that," Zadok replied finally. "We'll take you back to Ziklag. If you're sure, that is."

"I am."

Abiel turned the knob on the door, which swung silently inward. He immediately began to make the tonic, selecting certain herbs, spices, and other ingredients and dropping them into a pot on in the fireplace. The other three examined Doeg's array of medicine samples as he worked. After only about ten minutes of waiting, Abiel was ready.

"We leave now, but I wish to visit my mother's grave before we depart."

They strolled through town to the church and walked around back to the cemetery. In the plains of Yazuac, Christianity was the common religion, though throughout Alagaesia, no one else followed it. The party left the horses in Duke Gera's stables. As they approached her grave, the swordsmen noticed Abiel start to tremble.

"No one knows how she died," Abiel said. "She was found dead one morning out in our fields."

Abiathar's temper started to flare. Ziba glared at him.

"Was she killed?" Zadok questioned.

Abiel sighed. "Maybe. There were no wounds on her, but murder is the only logical explanation. She was very young and healthy."

They stood briefly at the gravesite, Abiel silently crying. No one said anything, but waited patiently for him to finish. When he did, they retrieved their horses, plus Abiel's mount, Ahimaaz. While they were at his home, Abiel removed Doeg's weapons from a case. He had a small collection pertaining of a dirk, the cutlass, a knife, and a whip.

On the trail back to Ziklag, they followed much of the pattern they had before. However, Abiel did not join in the duels at first. He preferred to try and master his father's whip. After a week or so, he gave up.

"Someone want to try and use this thing?" he asked at breakfast one morning. Zadok considered it, but preferred to stay with swords. Ziba simply said no. Abiathar however, was intrigued by it.

"I do," he said. "It seems interesting."

"Good, because I can't figure it out to save my life." He tossed the coiled leather to Abiathar, who then began to immediately start practice with it. "Swordplay isn't my thing either. I'll keep the knife and the dirk, but if someone wants this cutlass, I'll give it up."

Zadok accepted it, and strapped it to Mephibosheth's saddle, for he had no more room on his vast array of belts for another sword.

"Do we have any bow's with us?" Abiel continued. "I left mine at home, and I want to practice. I'm pretty good."

Ziba shook his head. "Zadok's a sword fanatic, Abiathar forgot his, and I can't use them."

"How did you plan to hunt then?"

"We didn't."

"What if we run out of food?"

"We won't, but if forced, Zadok skillful at throwing knives."

Zadok returned. "Tell you what. We'll get a bow at Jabesh for you, if you're interested."


	9. Chapter 9

"Help me!"

Zadok whirled around. They were walking down the main street of the port city Jabesh. Houses and stores lined the cobblestone road, blocking his view of the victim. Sounds of a struggle floated out of a side ally. Abiathar beat him to the entrance and charged in, flinging his whip. He had become extremely skillful with it on their travel. The assailant was a skinny, dark haired boy, about the same age as Abiel. He was attempting to pickpocket a peddler, but the merchant seemed to have the situation well under control. The pickpocket quickly realized that he was getting nowhere, so he fled, right into Ziba's arms. Ziba held the thief, but he gave him a struggle. He tried to wrench out of Ziba's grasp, but the axe-wielder's arms were strong from lifting his heavy weapon. The boy gave up and went limp with a sigh. The merchant brushed off his wares then continued on without a word.

"Get away from me!" the pickpocket screamed.

"You're not going anywhere," Ziba growled in his ear. He pinned the boy to the ground to prevent him from further struggle. Abiel knelt down beside the dark haired boy. "What was that all about," he said, not unkindly.

"Why would you care?" sneered the boy.

"Because I was like you. When I was younger than you, I stole from merchants just like him."

"So you're all thieves then?" the boy said with fear mounting.

"No, I changed."

"Why?"

Abiel sighed. "The story is too long to tell here." He glanced up at Zadok. "Can he come with us?"

"By all means. I'd like to hear your story too, you never told us."

"Do you have family, boy?" asked Ziba.

"No," said the boy sadly. "My mother was kidnapped." He scowled. "And my father is away in one of Ahab's filthy raids. I despise the king, and if you are favorable to him, I will run away as soon as this man stands up."

Abiathar laughed humorlessly. "No, we are… distant from him also."

The party of five walked back to the main street. "I'll go back to the horses," said Abiathar. "I'll take- wait, what is your name?" he said to the boy.

"Makir," he replied.

"I'll take Makir with me."

"I'll come too," stated Ziba.

"Then Abiel and I will go and buy weapons and supplies for Makir. A bow for Abiel, and Makir, what do you feel up to using?" Zadok put in.

"Oh, I don't need weapons," Makir replied. "I have these." He drew two daggers from his belt. They were extremely well taken care of. "They were my grandfather's. They have been passed down for many generations."

"You sure you don't prefer anything else?"

"No, I have practiced with daggers since I could walk. They're the only weapons I've used. No one has beaten me with them yet."

"Okay," Zadok shrugged. "Come on, Abiel, let's get that bow."

They parted company, Abiathar, Ziba, and Makir walking under the portcullis to the camp and Zadok and Abiel walking to the nearest shop.

"What fortune, a weapons dealer," Abiel commented as they walked into a shop that could have passed for an armory.

"What can I do for you?" said the thin female clerk, standing behind an anvil, finishing work on a dueling rod.

"We wish to purchase a bow," said Abiel. "A willow longbow."

"Wait here," she said pleasantly, disappearing into a back room. Zadok aimlessly wandered around the room, examining the vast display of weapons. He lifted a strange weapon from its brackets and swung it in a few practice moves. It had a wooded handle, about three feet long in the middle. On each end was a thin double-edged blade. The girl reappeared with the bow and a quiver of thirty arrows. "Here you are," she said, handing the weapons to Abiel. "That's 200 shekels, please." Abiel handed her the money.

"Will that be all?"

"Yes-," Abiel started to say, but Zadok cut in.

"I'd like this swallow," he said.

The girl clicked her tongue. "That's more expensive. It costs, um, 400 shekels."

"Done," said Zadok. "Does it come with a strap or sheath?"

"Yes. The there is a sheath for each blade. They are specially fitted and come with it free."

With their new weapons, Zadok and Abiel left the store. The pair then proceeded to a market and bought a bedroll for Makir and some more food. Then they met up with the other three outside the city.

"Problem," Abiathar said as they approached. "Makir doesn't have a horse."

"He can ride with me," said Abiel. "Ahimaaz is use to pulling heavy loads, and we can get Makir a horse in Ziklag."

With that problem settled, they rode on. Makir wasn't lying when he said he was good with the daggers. In fact, he was an equal with Zadok when it came to using them in battle. Zadok soon found himself draw to the swallow he had purchased in Jabesh. He even taught himself to fight one-handed with it so he could wield another blade in his free hand. He was unbeatable with it, even fighting two or three adversaries. They were two days from Ziklag, the beginning of a lush green forest strait ahead. It was then that Abiel told his story over dinner.

"When I was a few years younger than Makir, like I said, I was a pickpocket. I was fairly decent at it, but I had to hide from everyone in fear that I would be found out. I lived like this for a while, until my mother found out. She wasn't angry, but patiently explained how wrong it was. My father didn't care one way or the other." His eyes went downcast at the thought of Doeg and his mother. "This was just before she died." He turned to Makir. "Please give up your ways. Get close to those you have now before you lose them."

"I will," he said quietly.

They thought quietly after the story for a while. Then Abiathar drew his daggers and challenged Makir. Makir won. After that, they crawled into their bedrolls and fell asleep.

The next day it rained. Poured. The horses loved it. It relived them from the dust and filth of the many days on the road. However, the travelers despised it and huddled in blankets around what little fire they could make. The next day they realized they had lost almost all their food, which was left in the saddlebags. The next day, Abiel offered to go hunting in the forest.

"I'm coming too," Makir said suddenly. The changed thief had grown to become close friends with Abiel since leaving Jabesh.

The herbalist shrugged. "That's fine with me."

As they stalked into the woods, Abiel was shocked at Makir's stealth. He himself had managed to shoot a rabbit and two squirrels, but Makir was incredible. He actually walked so silently up to a deer that he stabbed it in the neck without startling it. Abiel had always prided himself on his hunting expertise, but Makir far exceeded him. He could throw a dagger and kill a bird in flight. Abiel doubted that even Zadok could do that. Shaking his head, they walked back to the camp with their game. Abiathar prepared the rabbit and the squirrels. After eating, the travelers went to bed. The next morning, after loading the deer onto Kish, the party set out again. About midday, they met up with another band of six travelers.

Abiel, who was in the lead at the time, nodded pleasantly to them. The leader of the others was dressed in work pants and a homemade tunic, which was all covered by a traveler's cloak. He scowled at him and pulled a spear from his back. He halted his horse and jabbed at Ahimaaz with the tip.

"So, comrades," he said over his shoulder to his companions. His voice had an irritating accent. "These fellows look like a rich bunch."

The others in the group laughed menacingly. Ziba tensed. Abiathar checked his saddle for his whip. Zadok loosened his rapier. Makir's hands flew unnoticeably to his dagger hilts.

"We'll cut ya a deal," said the leader again. "No fuss, and we'll leave ya enough supplies for the journey to Ziklag."

Abiel retained his pleasant composure, and with feigned stupidity he replied, "Now why would you do that, kind sir?"

The man slashed at Ahimaaz's nose and spat to the left. "Don't play dumb wit me."

Abiel shrugged, then with one motion grabbed his bow, strung an arrow, and loosed it at on of the riders. He fell off his mount, moaning and trying to remove the arrow from his shoulder. The leader of the band jumped off his mount and stabbed at Abiel. Zadok's dirk flew through the air and knocked the spear from the assailant's hand. The man thudded into the dust. Spluttering out dirt and drops of blood, he scooped up his weapon and rushed at Zadok. The rapier parried the attacks as Zadok fought from Mephibosheth's back. The remaining three riders challenged the rest. Makir leaped from Ahimaaz, landing in their path and engaged one of them in a dagger bout. The other two skirted around them and rushed at Abiathar, but the handle of Ziba's axe caught one of them in the chin. He went down, unconscious. Abiathar cracked his whip at the other, who tried to flee, but not before being struck across the back, and then downed by Samson, who was bucking. A few moments later, Abiel finished of Makir's attacker by pounding his head with the bow. From the back of his horse, Zadok had a hard time with the rapier. It was too long and he couldn't move it fast enough. Finally, his opponent jabbed the tip between two of the hand guard rods and flipped the sword from Zadok's hand. The man grinned evilly and jabbed at him. He tried to dodge, but the tip caught his upper arm and pierced it. As he cried out, the man laughed and wrenched his spear out. Leaning heavily on it he said, "I think I'll finish you now, you sniveling little wretched…" He then proceeded to scream oaths and obscenities at Zadok, who immediately tuned them out. His mind raced. _None of the other's can help me. Ziba's weapon is too bulky. Makir's too light. So is Abiathar's, and a bow isn't made for close combat. If I try to get another sword, he'll notice and kill me before I get it out. If I don't, he'll kill me anyway. _Suddenly, an idea struck him.

"Enough," he cut the man off. "I accept my fate, but first, you wouldn't deprive a doomed man from his last meal, would you?"

The man glared at him quizzically. "Fine…" he said slowly. "But if you hand even touches the handle of one of them swords, I'll run ya through."

"No, no my friend," replied Zadok. "It is in my saddlebag." He slowly reached for the strap, eyes never leaving the spearman. In a fluid motion, he ripped open the saddlebag and pulled the hammer out. He threw it at the man's chest. The man didn't even have enough time to cry out before he fell unconscious. Letting out a long pent up sigh, Zadok dismounted and gathered up his sword and the hammer. Without a word, he remounted his horse and nodded to the others. Makir nimbly climbed up onto Ahimaaz, and they were off again.


	10. Chapter 10

Please Review. Not many people are doing that (besides Fire Luigi08, but he doesn't count. Ha ha, sorry man.)

"They're back!" the joyous cry of Ahinoam drifted from Samuel's house. Ziba smiled, knowingly. Hannah rushed out before Ahinoam had finished. Climbing down from Kish, Ziba gathered her up into his arms. Their eyes welled up with tears. Ahinoam ran to Abiathar, who hugged her in his clumsy way. Zadok vaulted off Mephibosheth and sprinted to the stalls. He jerked open the door of Solomon's stall and knelt down beside his horse. It was sleeping, its breath still coming in ragged breaths. He gently shook the beast awake. It lifted its head, snorting with pain. Zadok fed him the tonic, then left the horse to sleep once more. Back at the house, a disappointing sight met his eyes.

Tamar sat on the porch beside a man he had never seen before, joking and laughing with him. According to the saber strapped around his waist, he was in Sword.

"Oh, Zadok," said Tamar uncomfortably. "This is Nahash. He asked me to… court him."

Zadok felt like he had been punched in the gut. He drooped his head and walked into the house, mumbling acknowledgements as he trudged past. He walked into his room and fell onto the bed. He had lost her. He never had he courage to ask her the question this man had, but he had always wanted to. She and Ziba were the only ones who had befriended him, and he felt lost knowing that now both of them had others to go to. He fought back tears, but they won out in the end and he cried a little. He was completely empty now. When he had dried his eyes, he decided to go speak to Abiathar. He had to tell his brother to court Ahinoam _now_ if he didn't want to lose her. He went back out onto the porch and pulled his brother inside.

"Do you like Ahinoam?" he asked.

Abiathar looked down sheepishly. "Well… ya."

"Ask her out now."

Abiathar though for a minute, then welled up his courage. "Okay," he said. "I'll do it."

He went out to Ahinoam, and it worked like a charm. _Great, now I'm the only one in this position_ though Zadok as he joined everyone. The three couples, Makir, and Abiel were over on the left side of the porch and took up all the seats, so Zadok leaned up against the wall on the right side and stared out over the vast farmland. The sound of galloping hooves met his ears, and he looked to the road. A familiar, yet out of place, figure rode through the gate and jumped off at the step of the porch.

"Ammiel!" cried Abiel quizzically as the man dismounted.

The bridge guard nodded to him, then turned to Zadok and hefted his spear. "You there,"

he said in a fierce voice. Zadok was puzzled at his tone.

"Yes?"

"I was ordered by Doeg to find you. I was the only citizen who has seen you up close. You are to be imprisoned for kidnapping his son. He wants you back, dead or alive."

With his last words, he hurled the spear at Zadok's head. Zadok effortlessly whisked his arm up and caught the shaft a foot from his face. Ammiel rushed forward, but Zadok had flipped the spear around and held Ammiel at bay.

"No further," he said.

Ammiel sighed. "I concede."

"My father ordered you to kill Zadok?" yelled Abiel.

"Yes," replied Ammiel.

"Then I proclaim that you failed your mission and order you to stay here and never return to him."

Ammiel tried to argue, but eventually the mass persuaded him to forget Endor and join them. Zadok returned the spear and resumed his position on the wall. Ammiel talked with the other group for a while, but eventually he noticed the empty, drawn look behind Zadok's usually vibrant blue eyes.

"What's wrong, my friend?" he asked as he approached his ex-victim.

"Tamar found another one," said Zadok without looking at Ammiel.

Ammiel hummed with sympathy.

"She was the only one besides Ziba who accepted me. I loved her…" another tear rolled out of the corner of his eye.

"Well, what are you going to do about it?" said Ammiel.

"Nothing," said Zadok slowly. "Nahash, or whatever his name is, is courting her. There isn't much I can do."

"Just wait. Soon she'll see that she misses you and will come back. Trust me." Ammiel put a comforting hand on Zadok's shoulder. Zadok sighed again and shook his head sadly.

"I just don't know what to do."


	11. Chapter 11

Two weeks later, Zadok was lounging around Samuel's house, still trying to forget Tamar. Samuel was with Trover in town and Abiathar was out with Ahinoam. He didn't know where. Unexpectedly, someone knocked on the door. He checked the corner for his swallow then opened the door. It was Tamar and Nahash.

"Hey," she said uncomfortably.

Zadok glared at Nahash. "Hey," he replied.

"We were wondering if you wanted to-,"

"No, you were wondering," said Nahash in a bored voice.

Zadok growled. "Let her finish," he snapped.

"Well, I was wondering if you wanted to come with us on a horseback ride."

"Is someone in trouble?"

"No, it's just a leisure ride. Samuel said we could ride in the fields."

"Oh," said Zadok, surprised. He thought about it for a moment.

"He's stalling, let's go," said Nahash, grabbing Tamar's arm.

"Whoa," said Zadok, stepping forward and slipping the swallow onto his back. "Yeah, I want to go."

Zadok retrieved Solomon from the barn, who had recovered nicely from his arrow wound, and met up with the two at edge of the fields. Tamar rode between the two men, oblivious to the mounting tension. When Zadok had ridden with Tamar before, he respected her space and stayed a little ways away. But he was sickened to see Nahash ride with her. His horse was touching hers, and Zadok could hear it quietly protesting the contact. He stared at her ravenously, making Zadok all the more sickened. Finally, when the man had wrapped his arm around her tightly, Zadok could see what he was trying to do. Enough was enough.

"Get away from her," he commanded, leveling the swallow with his eye.

The man sneered at him. "What are you gonna do, little Jesus nut?" he smirked. "You're not allowed to kill me. Remember? Those strange elves from the Other Continent said so."

"Get off the horse then, and we'll fight it out. Hand to hand," growled Zadok.

Nahash slowly, arrogantly climbed down from his horse. Zadok did also. The wind blew through trees on the edge of the forest, the sound increasing the amity. Cracking his knuckles, Nahash dashed at his opponent. Zadok flattened his palm and stiff-armed the man's gut, who then doubled over Zadok's hand. Zadok then flipped him over onto the ground. He kicked his head, then grabbed the collar of his shirt and hefted him up. He punched him in the face twice then hurled him into a tree. Nahash slumped to the dirt.

"Hardly a fight," said Zadok. The opponent looked angrily up at him. He staggered back to his feet then was quickly leveled again by Zadok.

"Think twice before you take another man's girl," he said disgustedly. However, when the weight of the event hit him, Zadok staggered back in amazement of his own intolerance. _True, I don't like him, and true, he may have really been doing what I thought, but maybe I just made myself think that._ He ashamedly turned to Tamar. In his embarrassment, he said nothing.

"Why did you do that?" she said quietly with hardly controlled rage. "Did you ever think of how I feel?" Zadok remained silent. He propped Nahash up onto his horse, then mounted his own horse and galloped away. Back at the house, he grabbed Abiathar who had since then gotten back from his date.

"I have to leave. Come if you want, Ahinoam can come too, but I'm leaving before Tamar gets back." Abiathar was stunned.

"What happened?"

"I can't talk now, I have to pack," he said over his shoulder as he ran down to the cellar to get the rest of his swords. He strapped his cutlass, broadsword, and rapier to his belt. His claymore was slung across his back along with the swallow. He ran up the stairs again and into his room. He threw a few articles of clothing into a leather bag along with a few sentimental things. A ring that belonged to his mother, a necklace his father made for him. He was about to run back out his door when another item caught his eye. It was the stone Tamar had given him on the day he had rescued her. It wasn't very big, about the size of a small apple, but it was a deep red that Zadok had liked. He hesitated then pocked it as he rushed into the kitchen to grab some food. He found Abiathar a moment later.

"No, I'm not coming," said Abiathar when inquired upon.

"Why not?" inquired Zadok.

"Because I need to be here with Tamar. Everyone except her knows that you care for her, and someone has to keep an eye on her. God help us if it should be Nahash," he said simply.

"Thank you. I hope I see you again some day." said Zadok. "I'll get my horse ready, then I'm going to the inn to see if everyone else is coming."

He set out of the gate a few minutes later with the other horses in tow. Ahimaaz, Ammiel's horse Shobi, and the newly purchased horse for Makir, Zimri. He stopped by Ziba's house. He eagerly joined him, on the condition that Hannah came also. At the inn, Abiel joined also, for he claimed the same thing had happened to him. Makir came along in loyalty. However, Ammiel was very confused.

"What are you doing?" he asked indignantly.

"I'm leaving. Ziba is coming along. There is no reason to stay here. Tamar hates now."

"So you're going to run from her?" he cried in response.

"Look," said Zadok coolly. "If you don't want to come, fine, but I'm not going to change my mind."

Ammiel came.

Solomon performed amazingly well on the road. His wound was completely healed and Zadok was very thankful to Abiel for the tonic. Hannah was somewhat uncomfortable traveling, for she had never been farther from Ziklag than Nob. But Ziba being there made her uneasiness subside somewhat. No one approached Zadok about Tamar, letting him remain silent in thought almost every night. However, Ammiel couldn't take it after more than a week.

"I want answers!" he demanded one night. "You dragged all of us out of our towns without so much as two words and now you won't even talk to us!"

Ziba shot the man a warning look. "Cool it," he said. "Zadok's been through a lot."

"Cool it down," he said. "Zadok's been through a lot."

"So that makes it right?"

"Ammiel!" screamed Zadok suddenly. Ziba looked at him quizzically. He had never been this mad before. Ammiel even staggered back from the outburst. Zadok continued. His voice quieter but the anger and pain were still there.

"I never had anyone there for me. God is the only one who was always there. Ziba and Abiathar left me out sometimes. Then she came. I really thought she liked me. I was happy. She wanted to be with me, and I had never had anybody like that. But-" he choked up for a moment. "Then Nahash came." Venom, the likes of which had never been heard by human ears, dripped thick through his voice. "He stole my only joy on earth. The only thing that prevented me from ending my life that night was the thought that God had a plan for this. That's why I 'dragged', as you put it, you away." He sighed and fell back onto the boulder he had been sitting on. Ashamed, Ammiel shrunk down into his bedroll. Everyone else then dropped off into an uncomfortable sleep, one by one. Zadok stayed up to think. Soon, everyone but he and Hannah were asleep. They both stared at the fire for a long time, neither saying anything. Eventually she broke the silence, asking, "So you never had _anyone_?"

Zadok looked up at her.

"No."

"Then why did you leave, if she was the only one? I mean, maybe you could get her back."

Zadok snorted. "Not after what I did to Nahash."

"What did you do?"

"I beat him up bad and threw him into a tree."

Hannah went silent again. Presently, she said quietly, "I'm so sorry." And then she too, fell asleep. Zadok punched the dirt and screamed to himself. Everything had fallen apart.

Suggestions please? I'm currently revising a few things, so suggestions would help a ton. Thanks!


	12. Chapter 12

"Whoa, boy," said Makir. Zimri stopped, and the procession behind him halted also.

"What's wrong?" asked Ziba.

"It's… Samuel?" replied Makir, entirely puzzled.

Zadok urged Solomon up to the front of the line.

"But it can't be," he said. "He was at the market when we left more than a week and a half ago."

Samuel hailed them, and they stopped. He met them with a big smile.

"There you are. I've been looking for you."

Zadok, still puzzled, asked, "For how long?"

"Oh, only about two or three days," he replied cheerily.

"But that can't be!" exclaimed Abiel. "We left almost two weeks ago. You could cover that much ground in three days."

"Not on horseback," said Samuel in an odd tone.

Zadok shrugged. "Never mind that. What did you want us for?"

"Ahab has attacked Ziklag. Someone tipped him off about Sword's main location. He is, even as we speak, ravaging the town in search of the headquarters."

Zadok shook his head. "I'm not going," he said simply.

"Zadok, you must," replied Samuel.

"I can't!" Zadok shot back. "Tamar's is very angry with me, and Nahash probably has his own little band of fighters out to get me."

"I know of your plight with the girl. She told me. However, it is not that matter that is of pressing importance. Every single Sword member is to be at the palace in three days."

"Fine," Zadok consented grudgingly. "But how are we going to get there? We have a two-week travel behind us."

Samuel closed his eyes and bowed his head. For several minutes, no one spoke. Finally, he looked up. "I will apologize for that later," he said gravely, "but for now, I must caution you that this secret is to leak out to _no one_. I will take us back today, and we will be ready to fight by this afternoon. Now, everyone, join hands."

From horseback, everyone clasped hands. Samuel stood between them, and raising his hands, he said, "Now, by your glory, take us to Ziklag!" There was a flash of white light, more pure than new fallen snow, and the ground disappeared. Before they knew what was going on, they were several hundred feet in the air, traveling at an unknown, incredible speed. _We must be nearly invisible to those on the ground_, Zadok thought. Within five minutes, they were standing in Samuel's front yard. Abiathar's, Ziba's, and Zadok's armor were laid out on the porch. Mail shirts and plate legs of different colors and sizes were laid out for Ammiel, Abiel, and Makir. Donning the protective gear, they had a quick meal from the supplies the travelers carried. The group, minus Hannah, remounted and galloped to the palace. No one seemed to be there. Samuel wordlessly led them to the room that held the Table of Elders. Abiathar and Ziba followed uneasily, but Samuel explained to them the direness of the situation and promised them they would not be punished. He even permitted Ammiel, Abiel, and Makir in. This room was also empty. Samuel walked to his seat, and without sitting down, reached underneath and pulled a lever. The heavy table rolled slowly back, revealing a dark, musty passageway. It had been used recently and frequently. The group descended slowly into the tunnel, weapons ready. Samuel removed one of the few torches on the wall and held it out in front of them. The cracked stonework shifted under their feet as they approached a far-off dim light. Eventually, they reached their destination. Sounds that betrayed the preparation of battle were generated from the mass of warriors in the underground amphitheater. Dimmed torches were mounted around the natural cavern, casting an eerie light on the small army. The volunteers, Level Ones, and Level Twos were closest to the tunnel. Behind them were Levels Three and Four. The small group of the Level Fives were in reserves, hidden in advantageous points around the room. Joining their respective locations, the group separated. Samuel stood with the other Elders in the center of the troops. Zadok prepared his place next for the fight that was to take place in three days. His position was next to another Level Five fighter, an elite bowman. At first, the two said nothing to each other as Zadok stashed his blades in the crevasse and the archer made trips in intervals for more and more arrows.

"Why are the weakest ones at the front of the battle?" Zadok asked him finally.

"It's a tactical plan. The king's troops will only be able to fit maybe fifty men into the room at a time. They will be worn down by the inexperienced and easier to defeat for the Levels Four and Five," the bowman replied.

"But wouldn't that almost destroy our entire Level One group and most of the Level Twos?" Zadok questioned.

"No. Once they are too weary or injured, they will retreat into the hidden tunnels of the cavern and meet back at the surface. From there, they will be treated."

"It seems like a well thought plan," Zadok concluded. "I commend the tactician, even though many casualties are in motion."

"He was a friend of my brother's, you know," the man went on.

"Oh? And who is your brother?"

"I don't know if you would know him. His name is Nahash."

Zadok went stiff. He injured himself trying to prevent his sword arm from cutting the man down. The archer noticed his tension. "What's wrong?"

"Your brother…"

"What about him?"

"Do you know about Tamar?"

The man smiled. "Ah, yes, another one of his famous catches."

"Yes, well," Zadok spluttered out. "Do you know the story of his fight?"

"Yes, what of it?"

"I-I was the one that fought him."

The bow was strung, an arrow nocked and aimed at Zadok. "I see," he said unemotionally.

The call went up for the regrouping of the troops. "Do not think this is over," said the man. Zadok slowly, silently, dropped out of his niche as not to alarm the man. He held his hands up when he hit the ground and slowly backed away from the bow.

The troops where positioned in installments around the stone battlefield. The groups were made up of fifteen or sixteen members. Everyone in each group was assigned a watch time to be sure that the king's men didn't advance their onslaught at night. Fortunately for Zadok, Nahash's brother was not in his party and Ammiel was. The pitiful fire the group made cast just enough heat and light to keep them comfortable. One member of the installment was an excellent cook and made some food before they had to put out all the fires. While they were eating, one older man told stories, most them about the distant lands of Du Weldenvarden and the Boer Mountians, the latter being universally known as the dwarf's territory. It was rumored that Du Weldenvarden belonged to the elves, this topic being the next story. The man assumed his best narrative voice and said, "You know, it is rumored that some elves are traitors." He planned to further this, but Ammiel broke in with, "No elf in all of Alagaesia, even when driven mad, would side with Ahab. It is unthinkable that they would serve anyone but themselves. Their powers are too great and respected to be used for evil."

Frowning, the storyteller said, "How do you think Ahab learned of our whereabouts? Do you honestly think a human could be so cunning and devious as to find and leak our secret to the king?"

Ammiel fell silent.

"Thank you," the man went on, "as I was saying, a band of renegade elves is said to be in the enemy's army, so be on guard. Do not try to slay one, just leave it alone and get as far away as possible."

Eli approached a few minutes later, motioning for the fire to be put out. The cook had the first watch. Zadok dropped onto his mat and soon was asleep.

Sounds of panic filled the natural amphitheater. A scout from up top had slipped down into a secret tunnel to report that Ahab's army was less than half a mile away! No one expected him to be ready this soon. The Level Ones frantically strapped on their weapons and crowded around the main tunnel entrance with Level Twos taking their position behind them. The Threes and Fours mingled around the Elders while the elites climbed into their places. Zadok reached his niche after the bowman. The archer kept his temper and said nothing. After what seemed and eternity, sounds marching drifted out of the main tunnel. The two warriors glanced to the recess. Presently, a vast amount of troops, about sixty-five in number, emerged. Zadok turned back to the man. "Fight well," he said. He offered his hand. "If I do not survive, tell your brother that I apologize. That… Zadok apologizes."

The man quizzically looked at him. "Fight well, Zadok," he said after shaking his offered hand. Considering his next words, he then spoke, "If you do not survive, know that Ithai forgives you in place of his brother. You seem a good man." Immediately following, Ithai loosed an arrow at a soldier, and the battle began. The Level Ones disappeared quickly, but the Twos held fast. They warded off three advances but eventually tapered off, one by one. It was then that a few of the Level Five ground forces were called down. Ithai loosed arrow after arrow, every one finding its target. All to soon, Zadok was called. He leaped down, landing on a man and severing his arm. The soldier screamed in pain and placed his good hand over the stub in an effort to slow the blood loss. Performing an amazing display of sword techniques, he felled all enemies in his path with his weapon of choice, the rapier. After he made it through the mass, the opposing troops retreated a fourth time back into the tunnel. Almost all the Twos were gone by now, and Zadok's heart was saddened by the casualties. He looked over his allies, trying to find his close companions. Abiathar was beside Samuel, his armor almost untouched. _He should last the whole battle if he made it this far unmarred, _Zadok thought to himself. He saw Makir not far away from himself. Blood dripped from his left upper arm, a long gash made by what looked to be an axe. The daggers were blood streaked, his hair matted. He flashed Zadok a weak grin, then turned back to the tunnel in apprehension. Abiel was in one of the archer's holds, putting a new string on his bow. He couldn't see Ammiel. He hoped the spearman had made it to the surface. Ziba had been assigned to guard the Elders. Zadok saw him tending to one that had been hit by an arrow. He redirected his attention to the threatening army as they entered again for another onslaught. Zadok suppressed a cry of alarm._ There are so many! _He reinforced himself with the cutlass in his left hand and rushed back into the fight. Amidst the throng of warriors, Zadok found Aries. "Fight with me!" yelled Aries, positioning himself to cover the side of the battle that Zadok couldn't see. The two were and incredible pair, and many times they had saved each other's lives. Soon, their enemies learned to stay clear of them. If they weren't cut down on sight, they were too injured to retreat and left lying vulnerable in the middle of the battlefield. At one point, Zadok dropped his cutlass. Quickly acting, he returned his rapier to its sheath and drew his broadsword into his left hand. He then removed the claymore from his back and armed his right hand with it. The two-handed weapon was clumsy, and his arm soon grew tired. Unable to fight any longer, he signaled to Aries, and they both disappeared into a hold that was unoccupied. Zadok massaged his own shoulder, trying to recuperate for the rest of the fight. Nodding to Aries again, he sheathed his swords, tore off the swallow, and joined the battle again. The battle raged on for an untraceable amount of time. However, the retreat signal was called for the king's men, and this time they did not return. Zadok did not see one live Level One or Two on the battlefield, but the casualty rate was far lower than expected. The Threes, who were able to judge their own strength and endurance better than the lesser, where gone, but only a handful were actually killed. The Fours had held the battle well and only a few had retreated. All the Level Fives were present and accounted for.

"Today, a great battle has been won for Alagaesia!" roared Eli. The assembled army cheered. "However," he continued as the din died down, "I regret to inform you we must relocated. Now that Ahab knows of our location, he will continue to attack until we are defeated. We will join with Colony Two in Gaash. The journey will start at the end of the year, so I suggest you prepare yourselves."


	13. Chapter 13

This is the first chapter that i hadn't pre-written before posting the story. So, from here on out, I'll be updating a whole lot slower and they'll be a lot shorter, sorry. It will tie into Alagaesia a lot better though, so I guess it's a trade off.

(Please review. I only have five, all from the same guy who I know off-line also, and I posted 11 chapters. Tell me that I'm the worst writer ever, I just want to have some feedback.)

After the battle under the Palace, Abiathar went to look for Samuel. He knew that his old master would know where Zadok was, for he had told him days before that he was going to look for him. After almost an hour of wandering, Abiathar found him.

"No, I can't tell you where he is," the Elder replied in response to Abiathar's questioning.

"You can't tell me, or you won't tell me?" asked Abiathar. He could feel his temper rising.

"Both. I don't know where he went, and even if I did, he wishes to remain alone," Samuel said. "He told me this very firmly."

Abiathar left the Palace grounds in a foul mood. His brother had gone off again, and without a word to him. As he kick a stone along the road, he remembered his promise to Zadok to watch over Tamar.

_You may think it hopeless for you, brother, _thought Abiathar, _but I can tell there is hope for the two of you yet._

He strolled up to the house thinking about this. As he walked up to his room, he glanced into Zadok's former residence. He jumped when he saw Tamar sitting on his bed, looking forlornly at the ring she held in her hand. Zadok had made it for her from a few old nails that he twisted together. She rarely wore it nowadays, but now she looked at it regretfully, knowing she hadn't worn it enough. When she realized that Abiathar was watching her, she quickly slipped the ring onto her little finger and stood up. Silently, Abiathar turned to go.

"Wait," she called after him. "I need to talk to you about something."

Abiathar faced her. "What."

Taken aback by his abruptness, she broke into tears. "I'm sorry," she cried, sobs wracking her body. "I didn't mean to drive him away."

Abiathar shook his head. "Then what were you intentions? You never once realized, in more than ten years that you knew him, that you meant more to him than anything on earth? It never once occurred to you that the reason he trained so hard and so long to become a sword master was to be able to protect you? He went from Level One to Level Five in less time than it took the Elders themselves. Didn't you think that it had _something_ to do with that first day he met you, when he fought off five boys, all much older and bigger than him, to save you?"

"I- I-," she sobbed. Grief was etched into every feature of her pretty face. Abiathar shook his head once more and went to his room, mumbling something about going to bed, leaving Tamar alone. She worked her way down to the main room and dropped heavily down in the chair, and continued to cry.

About an hour later, Nahash came looking for her. He almost gave up, then realized she could possibly be talking to Abiathar. _She better not be, _he growled to himself_. That guy is long gone, and she's gonna have to get over it._

Sure enough, he found her at Samuel's house, her eyes red from crying.

"What happened?" he exclaimed, rushing up to her. "If Abiathar hit you, forget the rules, I'm gonna pound him 'till he can't remember his own name."

"No, no, its not that," she said with effort, trying to prevent another sob from escaping. "I... don't want to talk about it."

Nahash grabbed her shoulders. "Come on Tamar, talk to me. I'm here for you."

"No!" she screamed. Embarrassed, she quieted. "No," she said again. "I can't right now."

"You're gonna tell me what's wrong," he threatened. "Or I'll make you. No one is gonna take you from me."

"Oh, I get it," she sneered. "No one's allowed to steal what you rightfully stole."

Nahash's face contorted with anger. He raised his hand and struck her in the face. She shuddered, but didn't show her fear. He raised his hand again.

"No one talks to me like that!" he yelled. "Take this!"

However, before he could strike her again, his hand was wrenched behind his back. The shoulder join popped as it was dislocated. He cried in pain and turned to face Tamar's rescuer. It was Abiathar.

"So," said Abiathar slowly as he roughly shoved the join into place and lifted Nahash off the ground by the collar. "You're here for her, is that it? Her all-wise, all-knowing protector. Well, I've got news for you. Zadok is out there somewhere, waiting for Tamar to realize what I'm about to show her."

"And what's that?" asked Nahash, trying to hid the fear in his voice.

"That you a weak, pathetic, conniving little jerk."

With that, Abiathar threw him to the floor and drew his scimitar. "Draw you weapon," he said. "Zadok fought you out of rage. I now fight you for the same reason."

Nahash jumped up with a bellow and drew his saber. He flung his sword around wildly, aiming for Abiathar's head and neck. Abiathar twisted his blade this way and that, easily blocking the enraged blows of his opponent. He back-stepped over to the bench and leaped up on it, coaxing Nahash forward. When Nahash was close enough, he flipped just inches above the fuming man's head, and as his feet came round, they struck the back of Nahash's head. The man flew forward, crashing into the broad back of the bench. The maneuver knocked him out cold before Abiathar even reached the ground.

Tamar looked on silently. She had seen this happen once before, but had had a very different reaction then. Now, she was calm, collected, and, oddly, glad. The man that had caused her grief would now think twice before approaching her again, but she suddenly felt like a huge burden. Abiathar now had to look after Ahinoam and her because she had driven Zadok away.

"I'm going back to my room," Abiathar said after a while.

"Just one quick question," she said. "How did you know he was here? I thought you said something about going to bed."

Abiathar showed a hint of a smiled. "You know, your screams aren't necessarily the quietest things on earth."

She grinned as he walked away. It hurt her face.

This chapter took a lot longer than expected, I had to get the conversion going. I have it started now though, so they'll be coming a little faster now.


	14. Chapter 14

Ya, ya, I don't own anything. I have to say that now because I'm using stuff from Eragon.

Abiathar strolled mindlessly through the woods, glad of Ahinoam's company. They walked into a clearing and Ahinoam sat down. Abiathar waited a moment, then smiled slyly as he heard the betraying sound of a twig snap. He whirled around and forced his saber up to block the axe blade. He, Ziba, Abiel, and Makir were playing a game they entitled "Hunter." The game was played with a minimum of three players and maximum of seven. The players would divide, one player would go alone and the remaining players would join up and hunt the single player. Once they had found him, they would ambush him and try to defeat him. However, if the lone player fought his way out, the game would continue as he would try to flee. It ended when the group found and defeated the single player.

At this point in their game, Abiathar was the single player and Makir and Ziba were the hunters. While fighting Ziba, Abiathar was acutely aware of other sounds surrounding the clearing. A branch creaked above his head, and he dodge rolled to the left as Makir crashed to the ground. Ahinoam gasped, proud of Abiathar's technique. The two hunter's backed him into a corner, but he slipped in between the trees and ran down to the river. With a flying leap, he jumped onto a boulder that was positioned roughly a third of the way from bank to bank. He could hear Ahinoam faintly laughing over the deep, rushing water, and he smiled again. Leaping again, he made it to an outcropping of rock that jutted into the water. He smiled smugly at the two on the other bank. Ziba had no way of leaping across as Abiathar did, what with his heavy axe, and Makir was so light that he would have been washed away if he would happen to fall in. Wading was out of the question, for the river was deep and fast.

"Cheater!" Ziba laughed. Abiathar had used this technique many times before.

However, both parties had temporarily forgotten something. As Abiathar turned to leave, an arrow whizzed past his right side, ripping through the billowing shirt. Abiathar ducked behind a tree and covered his head in his hands. Makir and Ziba burst out laughing as Abiel rained arrow after arrow, relentlessly firing upon Abiathar.

"I give, I give!" Abiathar said finally. The barrage of arrows stopped. Abiathar leaped back across the river.

"Okay, it's your turn Ziba," Abiathar said.

"Alright. Head back to the clearing so I can start."

The other three went back to the clearing. As they waited until the appointed time to begin their hunt, Makir scouted out the trees and selected a particularly sturdy one and swung himself up into it. Abiel set to work putting the arrows that Abiathar had retrieved from the opposite river bank back into his quiver. Abiathar sat with Ahinoam, sharpening his scimitar on a wheat stone.

"It's time," said Makir presently. He went off, deftly swinging through the trees. Abiel nodded toward the bridge and stalked forward, silently disappearing into the brush. Abiathar got up to head for the river. Ahinoam stopped him.

"Be careful," she said.

"You know I will. I've jumped the river hundreds of times."

"I know," she replied. "But I just want you to be sure. I'll be here when you get back." She kissed his cheek, then watched as he went to make the first leap to the boulder. _Stop worrying,_ she chided herself. _He's made that jump a hundred times, let him be._

----------

_I can't shake this feeling,_ Abiathar said as he ran for his first leap. _I've done it before, stop it_, he told himself. As he landed on the boulder, he crouched for the next jump. As he released, his cry of alarm was cut short as his foot slipped off the side and he plunged headlong into the icy river. His head bobbed to the surface, and he panicked at how fast the bank was rushing by. The waters, despite the fact that it was mid spring, were frigid, and his teeth chattered. He tried to swim toward the shore, but the sub-zero temperature of the water slowed his limbs and he couldn't, so he resorted to fighting to keep his head from submerging. Eventually, he started to black out from the cold. _Stay awake! _He commanded his mind. He slapped his own face in an attempt to keep his eyes open, but he could feel his consciousness slowly ebbing. Finally, his feet hit a shallow in the river, and he locked into place. This was considerably difficult because the water was raging all around him, but he held his ground and walked the shallow out over to the bank. He dragged himself onto shore, collapsing under his own weight. He laid there, exhausted, for along time.

Finally, when the warmth had restored his limbs enough to move, Abiathar walked painfully around, searching for any way back. Darkness had fallen by the time he had gotten little more than halfway back.

"Great," he muttered to himself. "If I don't die, Ahinoam is gonna kill me." He wandered around for a little longer, looking for a cave or something to sleep in. Then finally, he gave up and just found a boulder to sleep behind.

----------

As Abiathar drowsily woke up, it took him a minute to get his bearings. When his head finally cleared, he continued on his trek toward home. Presently he came upon some odd tracks.

_Hello, what have we here? _He thought to himself. His curiosity ignited, he followed the strange footprints to a grand tower of rock. _Oh well,_ he thought. As he turned to leave, the ground shuddered violently. Abiathar fell back and landed on his right elbow, injuring it. _That's all I need right now,_ he though angrily. But his anger was quickly replaced with fear as he saw what had made the minor earthquake. Slowly at first, then after it saw Abiathar, much faster, a silvery gray dragon emerged from the woods. It curiously sniffed at Abiathar. The dragon wasn't very big at all, maybe the same height at the shoulder with a young foal, but all the same, it was intimidating. Abiathar was locked in place with fear as it circle him, then settled itself in front of him. Abiathar slowly reached a hand out to touch it. It did not recoil from his hand. As his fingers brushed the scaly hard side of its neck, a shock seared through his arm, making it burn. The sensation quickly spread throughout the rest of his body and warmed his chilled frame. The feeling was a relief after the cold night, but after a few minutes became almost unbearable. He stared at the dragon with wide-eyed fear, wondering what it had done to him. It took almost an hour for the feeling to subside enough to be able to move. He cringed as the dragon nuzzled him, waiting for the phenomena to return, but it didn't. He gasped suddenly as he palm erupted with pain. He glanced down at his left hand and was shocked. He now understood what had happened.

According to the legend of the Riders, if a human or elf finds the dragon it was destined to be linked with, the egg of that dragon would hatch and they would become linked mentally. Some said spiritually, too. It seemed he had similarly linked with this dragon, though it was wild and had not hatched for him in particular. At any rate, a mark on the palm was a sign of this link, and it allowed the Rider to use magic more easily with that hand. However, he had always heard from the storytellers that the mark, it had a name that he couldn't recall at the moment, was supposed to be shimmering silver. His was light blue, slightly darker than the sky, and it did not shimmer at all. Confused, he glanced up at the beast before him.

_No, not a beast_, he scolded himself. _Old lore says that they are of equal intelligence with humans, and can even speak our language. _He tried to contact the dragon with his mind, but didn't know how. The dragon could see him struggling, and it made a deep rumbling sound in the back of its throat. Abiathar's fear returned, until the dragon made the mind contact with him. It felt like a thousand little fingers drifting slowly over his brain, calming him, relaxing his body until his arm hurt no more.

_I see you struggle,_ the dragon said in his mind. Suddenly, Abiathar felt as if he were floating, and he realized the dragon was opening his mind for him. He could feel its presence, and cautiously spoke through his mind, _What is your name?_

The dragon's lips slowly curled into a smile. _That is for you to decide._

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I finally got the Rider tie in going. Please give me feedback.


	15. Chapter 15

Abiathar stared for a long while at the dragon before him. It waited patiently as he thought. The first name that jumped into his mind was Sunstone. He had heard of a specific Rider dubbed with that name for particularly daring quests. He even tried to reach the Other Continent of the Elves, but had failed. He eventually decided against it, for his dragon was green. Next was Moonstone. _No,_ he thought almost instantly. This Rider had been similarly dubbed as had Sunstone for his deeds, but he had learned of Galbatorix's exploits and tried to follow them. However, Eragon had quickly crushed him before the man could lure any other Riders. _Flurospar? No, that was a female dragon. _He continued to puzzle over the name, then finally decided on the name of a white dragon he had heard of. _Obsidian. _he told the dragon. _Do you like it?_

The dragon hummed. _Yes..._

Abiathar chucked to himself. _Obsidian,_ he mused. It was ironic.

He sighed as he realized what this meant. He would have to tell Samuel. It would be better if Zadok were there, but even Samuel didn't know where he was. The dragon looked on him with sympathy, but could offer no advice. He resolved to tell his grandfather, Trover, first. Abiathar struggled to his feet, and almost fell, but Obsidian was there to catch him before he hit the ground. The man tried to walk, but found the his latest experiences had left him drained. The dragon grunted. _I suppose that I must carry you then,_ he said with mock offense. _You humans are so weak._ Abiathar just shook his head and settled down for the ride.

Obsidian made much faster progress than Abiathar could have. His talons provided excellent traction in the mud and over slimy rock. And at times, he could glide from one cliff to another that would have taken Abiathar the better part of a day to cross on his own. By nightfall, they were back in the clearing where Ahinoam would have been. Obviously, she wasn't there. By now, Abiathar had enough strength to walk and give Obsidian a break. They stumbled, side by side, back to Samuel's farm. Abiathar hurried Obsidian into the barn loft, then painfully walked up to the house, and weakly knocked on the door. Ahinoam, her face still tear stained, answered the door. For a moment, she didn't comprehend that it was Abiathar, she threw the door open and flung her arms around him. She hugged him tightly, and didn't release until she noticed him wincing in pain. She quickly let go and helped him to the bench. He laid down and she ran to get Samuel. Trover had been asleep in his chair, as usual, but was awakened by the activity. Abiathar sat up quickly when he realized his grandfather was awake.

"Grandfather, I need to consult you on something before Samuel gets here," he said urgently.

The old man laughed. "On what topic would my opinion be more valuable than Samuel's?" he asked.

"Grandfather, this is serious. I know this is going to be hard to believe, but I have a dragon hiding in the barn loft right now. I wanted to see what you had to say about it before I told Samuel."

Trover fell silent. Finally, he said."I think you should tell him, though I can't see what else you would have thought I would have said."

"I wasn't expecting to get-"

"Hold on, I wasn't finished. I just wanted to say that this is a grand opportunity. You realize, with the right training, you may meet with Zadok again one day."

Abiathar smiled. "That's more what I was looking for."

Just then Samuel hurried into the room. Abiathar settled back.

"Are you alright?" Samuel asked worriedly.

"I'm fine," he said, "but I don't know about Obsidian at this point."

Samuel looked puzzled. "Obsidian?"

"Yes, but I would rather if Ahinoam would leave us in private for a moment. I trust her more than anyone, but my story may be too much for her."

She smiled. "As long as I'm not kept in the dark forever," she said. She strolled outside, and Samuel turned back to Abiathar.

"Obsidian is... my dragon. I found him after a game of Hunter I was playing with Makir, Ziba, and Abiel," Abiathar started.

Samuel's eyebrows shot up. "Please, continue."

"Well, we were playing Hunter back in the woods, and it was Ziba's turn. Makir and Abiel had gone off on my own. I was making the leap across the river when I fell in and was carried downstream for most of the day. I started walking back home, when I came across some odd footprints. I followed them to a tall spire of rock, but then they stopped. I was about to leave, when a strange earthquake knocked me down. Then a dragon came into view and I touched his neck. I had a strange burning sensation for almost an hour, then it went away."

Samuel nodded.

"After that, I named him Obsidian, and he carried me home."

Samuel was again puzzled. "He did not speak to you?"

"Yes, he spoke, but I assumed you would have known that."

"Well, I would have taken it for granted, but under the circumstances, I wasn't so sure. You say you found him wild, and yet you still had that sensation? He didn't hatch for you?"

Abiathar shook his head.

"That is very odd. No one has ever linked with a live dragon. In every case, the dragon was hatched for the Rider."

"Yes, that occurred to me too, but it still doesn't change how it happened."

"Quite," Samuel replied. Suddenly his eyes widened. "What hand did you touch his neck with?" he asked excitedly.

Abiathar waved his left hand.

"Let me see it," he said, with barely controlled excitement.

Abiathar slowly turned his hand over. When Samuel saw the mark, he jumped up with an excited yell.

"This proves it!" he flushed. "This is not a gedwëy ignasia, but a much rarer gëuloth wyrda lam. Actually, yours is probably the only one ever known." Even as he said this, the mark began to faintly glow. It made Abiathar's hand itch. Trover flashed Abiathar a smile.

"So what do I do with Obsidian?" he asked.

"Well, for now we'll make him comfortable in the barn. But soon we shall take you to a Rider and get you some real training. Eventually, they shall move you to Sharktooth Island to complete your training."

Trover retired to bed soon after that, and Ahinoam came back in to sit with Abiathar for a while. After some time, she also went home, and Samuel started up to his room. Abiathar stopped him and asked, "Wait, I have a question. I've heard that Riders can use magic, but what about all that you taught me, about God and stuff? Where did that come from if everyone believes in the Rider's powers?"

Samuel thought for a moment, then shrugged. "I don't know. I was always taught this way, and so have most people in the Ya'zuac plains. It was never explained to me, but I do know this. Magic does not act on its own accord. Someone has to use it. To many strange, mystical things have happened to me by themselves to make me not believe in my religion. But it is true that the Riders have these powers, I've seen them. Maybe you can unravel this mystery when we have you trained." And with that, he went to bed.


	16. Chapter 16

Hey, been a long time since I put an introduction to a chapter, and I was bored. I talk about the Ra'zac in this chapter, so I'll explain. In my opinion, the Ra'zac have evaded for to long to have been killed in the third book's rescue, so they get mad and attack Du Weldenvarden. They were screwed up though, and they didn't go through the metamorphosis to become Lethablaka, so they stayed Ra'zac.

Anyway, PLEASE review. I have five reviews, all from the same guy, and I'm looking for some kind of feedback at all. If nothing else, just say I'm a horrible writer, and I should just stop writing the story now. Or, whatever makes you happy.

Abiathar sat wheezing on the ground. Samuel had gotten together about five of the upper-class Sword members to fight Abiathar to train him. This match, they had all fought him at the same time, and he had lost. Samuel chuckled.

"That'll be enough for today boys, thanks for your help," he said

"Remind me again why I have to do this?" Abiathar managed to say through ragged gasps.

Samuel laughed. "It is so you are ready when the Rider comes. He will test you first in the field with which you know the most about."

Abiathar shook his head, picked up his sword, and practiced poses an techniques on invisible adversaries. After he was done, he went and fed Obsidian and Sampson. Then he headed up to his room to crash into bed. But this plan was temporarily hampered, for at that moment, he heard Ahinoam scream.

By now, Abiathar was used to this. She screamed if mice ran across the road, or if a bird swooped to low. So he got gingerly out of bed, then walked outside. He was greeted by a great rush of air as a red dragon settled down in the yard. Ahinoam stood transfixed where she was with fear. Abiathar went and put an arm around her. The man on the dragon jumped down, then affectionately patted the dragons side. He started toward the pair, but Ahinoam backed away, then took off toward the house.

"Does she always do that when she meets somebody?" the Rider asked, laughing.

"Not always," Abiathar replied with a chuckle. "Just when that somebody happens to be riding a dragon bigger than her house."

And this was true. The dragon was abnormally large, even for a dragon.

"Yeah, I noticed that to," the Rider said. "He's still got some growing to do too, the big oaf. We don't know why he's so big."

At this, the red dragon's head shot up, and it snorted. Abiathar could tell they were talking by their stares, so he kept quiet. The Rider turned back to him.

"I'm here in search of a Mr. Abiathar Trover? Do you know where he is?"

"I hope so," Abiathar said. "Because I am him."

The man nodded. "Alright then. Is Samuel here, by any chance? The man who sent for me?"

"He's 'round back."

The man strode off around the house, and Abiathar went and got Obsidian. The silvery dragon had grown at least twice it's original size, and could now easily carry Abiathar. They had had to cut part of the jam of the barn door out so he could enter and exit. The two dragons looked curiously at each other.

_He says that he has never seen a silver dragon before, _Obsidian told Abiathar.

_That's odd, _Abiathar replied. _I had thought that there would have been at least a few Riders with silver dragons._

_Well, apparently there isn't. He says that the only colors he has seen are red, blue, green, black, brown, or white. And, very rarely, a golden one._

_That is very strange. Wow, we are being very rude, referring to this dragon as just "he". What is his name?_

The two dragons looked at each other for another moment.

_Khaldun, _Obsidian said finally.

"Well then, Khaldun, pleased to make your acquaintance," said Abiathar.

The dragon rumbled. _And your's, young Abiathar, _ said a deep, resonating voice inside his head.

Abiathar was taken aback for a moment. It hadn't occurred to him that this dragon could contact him too. He stuttered, trying to think of something to say to him, but the Rider came to his rescue.

"I see you found out how to talk to Khaldun, eh?" the Rider asked.

"Well, actually, he contacted me. I had no idea it was possible."

The man chuckled. "You will be continually amazed by these creatures. I've been affiliated with dragons since I could walk, and have yet to learn a fraction of their secrets. Perhaps you've heard of my father, Garabed?"

Abiathar stopped dead with surprise.

"You're Garabed's son, Ra'id? Oh, why didn't I see it before? Khaldun and Ra'id, yes, the only two things that the elf Garabed was truly proud of in the stories I've heard. He was the one said to have married Aelwyd, the daughter of Arya. He was supposed to have aided Sunstone in his quest to the Other Continent. Rumors also tell of the time he saved Du Weldenvarden from the Ra'zac and Lethablaka."

Ra'id smiled, a smile that had become famous over all of Alagaesia. "A bit over dramatic, but yes, my father is quite fond of me, and I of him."

The two Riders approached their dragons. Ra'id swung up into the harness and started to strap himself in. It was only now that it occurred to him that Abiathar had no way of securing himself to Obsidian.

"Why don't you ride with me?" he suggested. "Obsidian can fly by himself, it's only a short ways to Carvahall."

"I'm to go there already?" Abiathar asked. Carvahall had been a small farm town before Galbatorix's downfall. Since then, the City of the Great Rider, as it was called, became a bustling industry center, and Eragon had even moved back to his home town. Only the most spectacular Riders were called there.

"Yes. Once we had heard of your gëuloth wyrda lam, we decided to send for Eragon himself to study it. He may be able to explain this to you and all of us. It has caused much discussion among the lower rank Rider's over what exactly will happen to you." "Some say that you will die, that this is some kind of curse," he added with another famous smile.

"Well I hope I prove them wrong."

C'mon, please review. I really need the feedback.


	17. Chapter 17

Yessir, I finally introduce Eragon into this story. Took me long enough, eh? Like I had said before, everything up to Chapter 13 was completely original, with no affiliation with Eragon whatsoever before that. So, it took me a while to vier from the plot. But, I finally did it. And please, review. I have had no feedback from anyone except Fire Luigi 08, and I personally know him. (Seriously, he goes to my school.) I really want something to go on.

The people in the crowded streets of Carvahall gave the two dragons wide birth as they descended. Apparently, dragons were common in The City of the Great Rider, because even the children remained aloof as they dropped down. As the two pairs made their way toward the edge of the town, people started to take notice of the odd color of Obsidian. Some started to whisper to each other, others just stared. Noticing Abiathar's uncomfortable expression, Ra'id quickened his pace and they reached could see Eragon's house in only a few minutes. The gatekeeper saw them coming from a long ways off, and was opening the large iron grating as they approached. Once inside, Khaldun stopped in the courtyard and laid down. Obsidian looked at Ra'id with an uncertain gaze, but the young Rider nodded his head, and the silver dragon took a place opposite the ruby one. The two Riders let themselves through the two large brass doors and into Eragon's grand house. Smiling at Abiathar's wonderment, Ra'id lead him through a series of complex hallways, and once or twice, Abiathar could swear the elf had pulled a door out of thin air.

"Here it is," said Ra'id finally, nodding at the solid marble door directly in front of them. Abiathar raised a hand to knock, but a voice drifted through the door before he had the chance.

"Come in," the voice said.

Shaking nervously, Abiathar opened the heavy door.

Eragon's office was surprisingly small. A large portrait of an attractive olive-skinned woman was mounted behind the large, dark-wooded desk. Cubbyholes full of old scrolls lined the left wall. A large bookshelf was to the right. The thick carpet was designed with intricate detail, flower stems and vines intertwining into an interesting picture. But what surprised Abiathar the most was the young looking man seated behind the desk. He had always heard that Eragon was almost twenty when he had slain Galbatorix, over fifty years ago. However, the man looking back at him now couldn't have been more than thirty. He had pointed ears, though they weren't as prominent as Ra'id's. His blond hair was almost messy. A scar shone under his left eye, a token of Galbatorix during the battle. The most noticeable feature about him, though, was his piercing blue eyes. These eyes held wisdom far beyond his presumed age, holding secrets the would never be revealed, secrets that Eragon himself new little of. Abiathar waited with bated breath for him to speak. A warm smile spread over Eragon's lips.

"Welcome, Shur'tugal Abiathar. I trust your trip was well?" His voice was deep and full, sounding almost eerie coming from the young looking face.

"Yes sir, Ra'id and Khaldun made the trip very enjoyable."

"Mm. I assume Obsidian is out in the courtyard with the red dragon now?"

"Yes sir."

"Well, then, by all means, let us go see him."

Startled by the forwardness of the old Rider, (was he really that old?) Abiathar tripped over the threshold as he hurried out of the room. Eragon chuckled and helped him up.

"I-I'm sorry," he stammered.

"Calm down, young Shur'tugal. It is not that great an ordeal, your appearance. True, Riders are still rare these days, but this is nothing new," Eragon said.

However, his opinion was soon changed when he laid eyes on Obsidian. He gasped at him, then slowly walked over and placed a hand on his head. The dozing dragon woke with a start and roared. Eragon reassured him soothingly, calming the startled dragon down. Eragon whispered silently to himself, enraptured by the mysterious beast.

"What's going on?" Abiathar asked Ra'id.

"I don't know. He was never this caught up in another dragon before. Even when Khaldun had come out abnormally large, he thought little of it."

Eragon continued to examine Obsidian, forcing him to open his mouth, hold up his claws, and such. Eventually, Eragon turned back to the other two Riders.

"It's-It's..." he started to say, but trailed off, deciding to keep the knowledge to himself, acting as though the last half hour had never happened. He calmed down and casually asked Abiathar, "So, you say that you found him wild, hmm?"

"Yes sir," Abiathar replied.

"And judging from the report we received from Samuel, you have a rather strange gedwëy ignasia."

"Well, not exactly, sir," Abiathar started to say. Eragon's eyebrows shot up. "That is to say, sir," he added hastily, "that it is not a gedwëy ignasia, or at least what I know of one. Samuel said that it was a gëuloth wyrda lam."

Eragon's excitement rose again. Abiathar could hear Ra'id in his head, saying _Wow, I have never seen him this excited. He is almost seventy-five, you know._ This dispelled all doubts Abiathar had had about his senior Rider.

"Come, let us return to my office, we have much to discuss." 

The three Riders entered the small room again and took seats that had apparently been conjured up from thin air, for they weren't there the first time.

"Well, now, I am sorry, I have seemingly lied to you," Eragon began. "This is _quite_ an ordeal. Ah, where are my manners?" He bellowed through the open door, "Murtagh, the new Rider is here. Join us, and bring some tea along."

The group waited patiently, though Abiathar was now sweating with nervousness. Soon, another Rider entered, carrying a tea tray on which were four tea cups and a pitcher, accompanied by a plate of tea cakes. At least, Abiathar presumed it was a Rider, judging by his sharp ears and wise old eyes, even though the man looked hardly older than Eragon himself. The man smiled down to Abiathar.

"So, this is Abiathar?" he said kindly.

"Yes," replied Eragon. "Just set it down right there," said Eragon. Ra'id sat amused by the look of shock on Abiathar's face as scrolls and books lifted off the desk by themselves and reset themselves on the shelves and cubbyholes. The man set the tea tray down.

"Yes, very good. Abiathar, this is Murtagh," said Eragon. Then, as almost an after thought, he added, "He is my brother."

Abiathar at once realized the resemblance. Murtagh nodded politely. "Pleasure."

"Now, down to business," said Eragon, offering two of the tea cups to Ra'id and Abiathar. He chose one himself and Murtagh took the last. "I presume that you have discovered some of Obsidian's talents? As in mind communication, comprehension, etc.?"

"Yes sir," said Abiathar quickly.

Eragon smiled. "Well, you still have much to learn, but do not fear. I am not accusing you. In fact, I would be more shocked if you knew anything in the fields we will train you than if you didn't. Ah, listen to me babble, you must be apprehensive. Please, feel free to ask anything that is on your mind."

Abiathar had hundreds of questions pent up, ready to come flooding out. However, most of these he knew would be answered clearer and faster in time, when he was trained. Instead, he asked, "Please, sir, if it's not too much trouble, I would like to know the history of... well... everything. Who you are, who Murtagh is, the Riders, Sword, everything."

Eragon was taken aback a bit. "You know of Sword?"

"Oh, yes sir. I've belonged to it ever since I could remember. My brother was on his way to becoming an Elder. Perhaps you've heard of him? His name is Zadok."

Eragon and Murtagh exchanged glances that Abiathar found impossible to read. Eragon turned back to him. "He sounds familiar. Possibly could have heard of him in passing," he said dismissively. "However, I think that if you are to know as much as you can, I must start. It all began when I found Sapphira. She is my dragon. To make a long story short, I met up with an old Rider named Brom that had survived the Rider's War, but at a cost. His dragon, also, coincidently, named Sapphira, had been killed protecting him. He died on the way to the Varden, killed by the Ra'zac. I met up with Murtagh, and we finished the journey. From the Varden, I made my way to Du Weldenvarden to finish the training Brom had started."

"Sir, if I may interrupt?" Abiathar asked timidly.

Eragon's mouth tugged into another small smile. "You already have."

Looking abashed, Abiathar continued. "Sir, you went to Du Weldenvarden alone. Where was Murtagh?"


	18. Chapter 18

There was silence in the room. Ra'id glanced around uncomfortably as Eragon and Murtagh tensed. Abiathar looked bewildered.

"He was... detained," said Eragon in a tight voice. "But there is no time for that now, please, let me finish the story. You see, after I started training with the elven Rider Oromius, I was quickly called back to fight in a battle for the Varden. After that battle, I went against my word to the elves and tried to help my cousin rescue his bride-to-be. We managed to escape with her, but at a heavy cost. Roran, my cousin, had his right eye cut out by the Ra'zac, along with losing three of the fingers on his left hand. After that, I made a trip back to the elves which were furious." He stopped and shuddered. "Believe me, you do not want to make an elf mad. Anyways, I completed my training. It took almost three years before Oromius finally let me ride against Galbatorix. We fought... and I won."

"Please, sir, could you tell me some of-"

"No," Eragon said sharply, with a glance to Murtagh. "I do not wish to speak of the battle."

Abiathar's face went red with embarrassment. "I'm sorry sir. I spoke out of line."

Eragon's face softened. "It is not your fault, young shur'tugal. Do you wish to hear the rest?"

Abiathar nodded.

"Well, after the defeat of Galbatorix, the Varden dispersed. Many became traveling storytellers, for they had no place to work. However, about ten years ago, when Ahab took control, people began to seek them out. Knowing full well, mind you, that they had dissipated. A man named Shimei, perhaps you've heard of him, he was in Jezebel's army, found a few of the remaining Varden members and regrouped them. Feeling that the name of the Varden was too great an honor to be carried by a deserter and a couple of traitors, they humbly named themselves Sword. Unable to perform the complicated mind searches of the earlier resistance group, they formed a set of rules, an attempt to silence any information that might reach unwelcome ears."

Abiathar sat wide eyed. "Sword _is _the Varden? I-I-" His mind was racing. _Of course, _he thought. _The Secret. No one but the most trusted, the strongest, know of it. If they weed out the untrustworthy ones, the weak ones, no one can sell them out._ He felt proud, now knowing, presumably, the Secret. But then a sudden, horrible realization came to him. "But sir, certainly a man such as yourself could do away with Ahab almost instantaneously. Why haven't you?"

"I gave up politics a long time ago. The Riders powers are not as strong as they once were, but their ideals are the same. We do not take sides, we merely keep the peace. Glancing out the window, he jumped. "Oh, look at the time, it's almost sundown. Ra'id, please show Abiathar to his lodging. Don't worry about it, we'll clean it up," he added as Ra'id made a move to remove the empty tea tray.

"What did he mean by 'the Riders powers are not as strong as they were'? I know there are fewer, but that doesn't mean less power, does it?"

Ra'id sighed. "Most of us don't know this, but the Riders used to be almost unkillable. That's why it took one of their own to bring them down. Eragon feared that upheaval again, so he weakened the magic used by the Riders. No one knows how, but he did. He hopes that this will prevent another uprising from succeeding, even if many join the cause. Him, Murtagh, and the very old Oromius are the three most powerful Riders left. And, personally, I think Murtagh is the strongest of them all."

Abiathar almost asked why, but he remembered how his last question about Murtagh had ended up, and held his tongue. They entered a cozy little room, just a small bed, a writing desk, fireplace, and a dresser were in the room. However, it looked very inviting after a long day of flying, and Abiathar flopped onto the bed.

"I'll have Vardenis and Korien get your things tomorrow. Sleep well," said Ra'id as he left the room. Abiathar drifted asleep almost instantly.

The days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months. Abiathar was having the time of his life. He was the undisputed best swordsman in training, and his magic was growing steadily stronger. He was the first to welcome the new Riders, and made many friends this way. However, with the growing threat of the Riders going on, Ahab noticed. Soldiers and mercenaries were hired to guard the grounds, and, on occasion, guard Riders. Abiathar had been assigned one, Haig, a fragile looking old man, more for company than protection. He seemed more afraid of his weapon than his enemies did. Increasing security also meant protection for Eragon as well. Guards patrolled the doors to his room and escorted him everywhere, though all knew that Eragon was more of a threat than his guards. One however, was far more superior, and rarely left his side. His name was Karayan. He had very blond hair, almost silver, and shockingly blue eyes, like ice chips. He had the ragged appearance of an often hired mercenary, but was much more trustworthy than any sellsword Abiathar had met. A wide, night black cape was draped across his back and part ways over his left shoulder, constantly concealing his left arm. His tunic, a blood red color, was torn and tattered, but Karayan never bothered to replace it. His hunting pants, also blood red, and tanned leather boots completed the attire, giving the man a commanding appearance. No one ever saw him without his weapon of choice, the swallow.

One day, Abiathar was cleaning Obsidian off, listening to one of Haig's stories. The old man always had an interesting tale to tell, and Abiathar never tired of hearing them. He saw Ra'id a little ways off, also cleaning his dragon. A group of very nervous girls were being lead into Eragon's house by Vardenis. Before coming to Carvahall, Abiathar was under the impression that only males could be Riders. However, he met a good deal of women Riders that were a match for any man. He watched as they approached the house. They reappeared shortly, being led to their baby dragons that were penned up in the courtyard under the motherly eye of Sharifah, Vardenis' dragon. Abiathar's eyes followed them as they neared the dragons. One of them reminded him of Ahinoam, but when she turned to face him, he saw that it wasn't. Vardenis left with Sharifah to let the girls play with there dragons alone. A horrible thought struck Abiathar. Malik, Rashid, and Farid. They were the shady Riders in the courtyard. His stomach did a pitfall as he saw Rashid swaggering toward the dragon pen. He jumped down from scrubbing the base of Obsidian's neck and waved for Haig to stop and follow him. They stopped as Malik and Farid joined Rashid. Ra'id, noticing Abiathar, jumped down and accompanied him.

"Whats up?" he whispered.

"Them. I think they're going to... "bother"... those girls."

Indeed, they had every intention of "bothering" the girls. Abiathar motion Haig to stay here, then strode forward fast toward them pen.

"So, Rashid, whats up?" he asked in a cold, drawling voice.

The man winced.

"Stay out of this," he sneered back.

"I don't think so," said Abiathar, placing himself between the girls and the other three boys. Ra'id stood beside him.

"Have it your way," said Rashid as Malik and Farid stepped up beside him. Other shady Riders joined the three-man party too, and soon Abiathar and Ra'id were facing ten other Riders.

Abiathar's whip lashed out. His sword appeared in his hand. The two groups barreled into each other, fighting ferociously. Swords and axes clashed as Ra'id and Abiathar fought desperately to hold off the harassers. The two groups retreated after a few minutes, wheezing and dripping with blood. Abiathar drew a sleeve across his face , but gasped as a spasm wrenched his stomach. Ra'id was leaning against the pen's fence, trying to breath. Smirking menacingly, Rashid started forward. Out of nowhere, Karayan came barreling between the gang and the pen, sliding in front of the proceeding group. Drawing himself up to his full height and unclasping his swallow, he crouched. The ten man group surrounded him, smug looks on their faces.

"What are you gonna do to us?" Rashid asked mockingly. "In case you can't count, there are ten of us and one of you."

Karayan spoke, his voice silky and cold. "Do you want to take that chance? There is still a one-tenth chance I'll win."

Without waiting for an answer, he lowered his swallow and started the fight. He flipped and dodged, weaving in and out, landing blow after blow. Abiathar was amazed that he was never hit himself. Not even a minute later, Karayan was dragging himself out from under the unconscious bodies. It was only then that Abiathar saw his wounds. A long gash had been cut across his face from above his right eye, ending below his left. It was streaming blood into his right eye, and he had to constantly wipe it clean. A thin, razor blade cut wound its way from the back of his left hand to where it ended halfway up to the elbow, underneath his arm. A wide, short axe gash had been cut into his right thigh. The girls were ashen faced and trembling as he approached them. Abiathar grabbed his good arm to keep him from falling as he stumbled forward.

"Thanks," he muttered.

"H-how did you do that?" one of the girls squeaked.

Karayan glanced up at her.

"Practice," he said, as if the answer were obvious. "Mercenaries have to be able to do that, or else they won't be mercenaries for very long."

"Well, let me at least h-"

"No, that's alright." Karayan cut Abiathar off, straitening up. "I've been through worse."

The other Riders watched in wonderment as Karayan strode back up to the house, limping. Abiathar turned painfully to the girls. The one that he thought might have been Ahinoam did indeed look very much like her, with auburn hair and chocolate brown eyes. The other two had blond hair, one with green eyes and the other blue. All three were very attractive, but Abiathar was not drawn to them. He still wrote and received letters from Ahinoam almost everyday.

"Well, I guess we'll see you around," he managed to say through ragged gasps.

"Wait!" one of them called, the blue eyed blond, as he and Ra'id turned to leave. "We don't even know your names! And you're really hurt!"

"Abi-Abiathar," he choked out. "This -- is Ra'id. We're fine, don't worry..." He couldn't finish the sentence, because the pain had taken over again and a new spasm racked his stomach. The girls wouldn't hear of it.

"You helped us, now we're going to help you," she said firmly. My name is Zagiri. This is Danae," she said turning to the one that looked like Ahinoam. "And this one is Ankine. Now, were taking you to Eragon. Right now," she said loudly as Abiathar started to protest. She hardly had the sentence out, however, before she screamed as Obsidian and Khaldun barreled toward them.

_Are you alright?_ Obsidian practically shouted in Abiathar's head. It made him wince.

_Ah, as best as can be expected after a two-to-ten fight,_ replied Abiathar.

Without another word, Obsidian hoisted Abiathar onto his back and set of toward the house. Khaldun did likewise with Ra'id, and the girls tagged along close behind.


	19. Chapter 19

Yeah... sorry about that last chapter. It was... to say the least... rocky. I had just gotten back from like a seven hour long party, and it was like eleven o'clock by the time I got home. The only reason I wrote then is because my friend was waiting for me to put something in, and I had to put it in that chapter before I got too far ahead of myself to say it. Anyways, I'm hoping this chapter will be better. And no, for your information, Karayan is not a Gary Sue. I put something in this chapter to prove he isn't, but if you really feel the need to flame me on that, I can't stop you.

-----------

"Mm hmm," Eragon hummed as the three girls, struggling, managed to drag Abiathar and Ra'id into his office.

"You _can_ help them, right?" asked Zagiri hopefully.

"Alas, I have been more adequately trained in combat magic," said Eragon, amused. "However," he added quickly, after reading their crestfallen faces, "I believe Nasuada will be able to help them."

"Nasuada?" Danae asked quizzically.

Eragon beamed. "My wife. She was trained as a healer."

Nasuada was summoned. Abiathar realized that the portrait behind Eragon's desk was hers. The almond shaped eyes, olive skin, and sleek black hair matched the picture. These features gave her an exotic beauty, even though she had to have been at least sixty.

"Yes?" she said, entering. However, after seeing the two laying on the floor, she quickly went to work.

"Waise heill," they heard he mutter as she waved her hand over Ra'id's wounds. Instantly, the tissue flowed like water, rejoining and sealing off the blood. She turned to Abiathar. She started to say "Waise heill" again, but then she noticed his arm. It was hanging uselessly at his side, a sword had severed the bicep. She said a much longer sentence under her breath that none of the people congregated had been able to catch. The sinew and muscle writhed, re-connecting. Abiathar gasped. Nasuada then muttered the simple healing spell. She stood up, pleased.

"Anything else, dear?" she asked Eragon.

"Have a seat," he replied pleasantly. "These two will still be needing to catch their breath, and you might as well get acquainted. The one on the left you already know, but Abiathar here is new. He is the... WildRider I was telling you about."

Nasuada's eyes widened slightly, but regaining her composure, she said kindly, "So, you've already received a title, have you?"

"I'm sorry, milady, I don't follow."

"Oh, have you not heard of the Sunstone and the Moonstone?"

Abiathar looked embarrassed. "Er... yes. I apologize, milady, I didn't know that is what you meant."

She smiled warmly. "No need to apologize. But yes, many have been referring to you as WildRider. Because of your dragon, of course."

Abiathar's face reddened. He turned to Eragon. "But I haven't done anything. Don't I need to earn that title?"

"Bah, no matter," said Eragon, waving his hand. "If it sustains their fancies to have something to talk about, let them."

A knock on the door interrupted the conversation. A soldier appeared, bowed, and said simply, "Guard change, sir. I thought you would like to know," and stepped out.

"Oh my!" Ankine exclaimed. "That reminds me, did you hear what Karayan did?" Then she hastily added, much quieter, "Sir."

"Ah, yes, faithful Karayan. He told me about that, though very quickly. His leg was giving him great pain. I offered to have Nasuada mend it for him. However, he wished to let it heal on his own accord. Says that he always welcomes scars, they remind him that he is not invincible."

Everyone present winced, imagining what pain he must be going through.

"How did you meet him?" asked Abiathar. "Was he a soldier? He seemed oddly familiar."

"No, no, he was a mercenary," Eragon replied. "I met him in a tavern near Therinsford. I was offering a job to another man I knew, and Karayan overheard us talking. Said he was a mercenary that was currently jobless, so he asked if he could join in. He also said that he had had much experience, and had seen things than no mortal man would believe. It sounded very far-fetched to me, but so far, my trusty mercenary has lived up to his claims."

"Oh," said Abiathar, disappointed. "I was so sure I had seen him somewhere..."

----------

Several hours later, Ra'id found Abiathar, sitting quietly with Obsidian.

"Hey," he said. "Mind if I sit down?"

"No, not at all. Go right ahead."

Flopping down next to him, he was quiet. But soon, he asked, "So... what do you think of Zagiri?"

Abiathar rolled his eyes at him.

"Ra'id, your an elf."

"Yeah, so?"

"You can do much, much better than her. Tell me you've never been to an elven ball before. The elves never go with anybody. It saves the cost of bitter feelings that way."

"Yeah, but she's... I don't know, different. Not like the other two."

"How so?" asked Abiathar, finally turning to face him.

"I don't know, call it elven intuition," he replied, grinning slyly.


	20. Chapter 20

Wow, those last two chapters really sucked. I have no idea why I wrote them so horribly, but if this chapter is just as bad, I'll probably have to take counseling or something.

Abiathar continued to train. He had lived in Carvahall almost a year now, and he met regularly with Ra'id, Zagiri, Ankine, and Danae. However, Karayan puzzled him. After that little incidence with Rashid, Karayan returned to his solemn silence, speaking only, occasionally at that, to Eragon. Soon, however, Karayan was pushed from his mind as the exams approached. Every new Rider was to be given a test. The outcome of the test was to single out those that would be worthy to move on to Sharktooth Island. Ra'id explained them to the group.

"We'll, you see, it's like this," he started as they strolled through Carvahall one day. "You have to duel someone like me, a Rider that has passed on through Sharktooth, but is just a simple Rider. No one will have to face someone like my father or Sunstone. Obviously, this is to test your competence with a weapon. After that, you must proceed up into the Spine. You must live there for ten days, with only the cloths on your back and your weapon. No one is to accompany you, but Eragon has a group of Riders waiting over mirrors infused with the draumrkópa spell to watch your progress." He paused and glanced at Zagiri with a satisfied smirk as they all gasped. "That is to test your magic. After which, you will again battle someone of my caliber from dragonback. You are allowed to use both magic and melee, incorporating your link with the dragon."

Abiathar smiled to himself. Dueling would be a cinch, he'd already beaten Ra'id. Living in the Spine, however, would be much more challenging. Magic had never been his strong point, unless he was working with vindr (air). Maybe he could suffocate some wild game. The dragonback battle would be moderately difficult, but manageable. Ra'id, however interrupted his train of though, continuing.

"Eragon is supposed to call a meeting tonight to lay out the lesson plans for all those in training. Don't tell him I told you that," he added in a low whisper as they walked toward a weapon's stall. Danae needed another sword because the one she had now was too heavy for her. As Ra'id helped her find an appropriate blade, Abiathar looked over the other wares. He noted particularly odd weapons, like scythes, war hammers, and small battle axes. Two types of weapons in particular caught his eye. One was the assortment of whips available. He needed a new one, because the handle of the one Abiel had given him was dry rotted and cracked, and the leather was fraying. As he danced his fingers over them, trying to decide on one, his thoughts turned fondly to his friends back in Ziklag. He wondered if they thought of him, how they were doing, and what levels they were in Sword. He was sure that Ziba was Level Five by now, but Makir, Abiel, and Ammiel had joined late. Finally deciding on a fine looking whip of thin chain, complete with an iron handle sculpted in the shape, appropriately, of a dragon's head and neck. As he was paying for it and coiling it at his side, he noticed another odd weapon. It was, as far as he could tell, a katath. It had a strong bamboo handle, about five and a half feet long. At one end, two curved, wicked looking blades were attached. It looked like a two pronged pitchfork, though much more formidable and deadly. He had only heard mention of them in books, and had never personally laid eyes upon one. He cocked his head in thought, then snatched it up. He strode over to where Ra'id was trying vainly to get Danae to pick a sword. He grinned with relief as he saw Abiathar approaching.

"What's that?" he asked, noticing the katath in his hands.

"Something that Danae might prefer." He held it out to her. She took it carefully, weighing it in her hands. She twirled it, stunned by how evenly weighted it was. Whipping it up at attention, she turned to Ra'id.

"Draw your sword, I want to try this out."

They held a mock battle in the street, and a smile appeared on Danae's face. She fully appreciated the weapon, and her compatibility with it was incredible. Laughing with glee, she danced around, finally bringing the fight to a close with a wave of her hand. Brushing her hair back from her eyes, she turned to Abiathar again.

"So, what is it?" she asked.

"I'm not exactly sure, to be honest," he replied. "They're called kataths. I've read about them, but I've never actually seen one. The ones of that type are specially designed for female fighters. At least, that's what I gathered from my books."

"Well, it suits me. C'mon, lets buy this and get back to Eragon's house."

Abiathar sat with Obsidian as he waited for the meeting. The dragon was coiled protectively around its Rider, who was sitting in the crook of the beast's right forearm.

_You will fare well in the duel, _the dragon said encouragingly to him. _Though I fear for your progress in the Spine. That will not be easy._

Abiathar punched him playfully. _Thanks for the encouragement, you big oaf._

Ignoring the insult, Obsidian continued. Abiathar could feel the great dragon's muscles tightening with anticipation at its next though. _The dragonback battle will be... interesting. How well do you expect me to do?_

_Obsidian, you're a wild dragon. No one knows anything about you but you. I'm in you're head and I don't know much about wild dragons._

Obsidian rumbled, but said nothing

Soon, Haig came out to call Abiathar in. The meeting was about to start. It was held in the great room where all the meals were taken, a long, wide space with many tables and chairs to accommodate the Riders. At one end were the two main doors, fifteen feet high, a foot and a half thick, they were made of steel. At the other end was a smaller door that no one had ever dared enter. It connected to Eragon's office, which was situated right above the great room. Selecting a seat near Ra'id and the girls, Abiathar waited for the speech as more and more Riders filed in. Soon, Eragon came through the smaller door, wearing the armor he had received so many years back from the dwarfs. A white sword gleamed as it swung at his side, theAiedail, had once belonged to the very first Rider Eragon. Smiling broadly as he approached the stand, Eragon addressed those present.

"The day has finally come," he began. "The day when the young Riders prove themselves worthy. A day where the very limits of your strengths are tested. The day that you can finally understand, and proudly proclaim that you are a Rider!"

The young Riders present sent up an enthusiastic cheer. The older Riders, like Ra'id, sat smugly, knowing what exactly the cheer was for, though the ones cheering didn't have a clue.

"Now, to begin the tests. When you leave this room, you will meet your parter. They are the older Riders you have seen around here. This Rider will test your weapon compatibility and your competence with your dragon. They will guide you through a crash course on magic, and they will be the ones to chart your progress when you are released into the Spine."

A collective gasp replaced the enthusiasm. Whispering broke out among the tables, and was only silenced by Eragon lighting one of the tables on fire. As the Riders sitting at that table hurried to extinguish the flames, Eragon continued.

"Yes, you heard me correctly. You will be released into the Spine for ten days, and you will be forced to survive by only the use of magic. Your parter will explain this to you more throughly when the time comes. Once these tests have been completed, your performance shall be reviewed, and the High Council will decide whether or not you proceed to Sharktooth. Now, proceed back to your dragons. Your guide will be waiting for you."

The Riders stood, suddenly filled with newfound dread that replaced the excited anticipation. As they nervously exited the room, Abiathar moved to follow. However, he heard a voice say _Please, follow me into my office. _He froze. He looked around, but no one else appeared to have heard it. Shrugging, he started off again. But the voice came back, more insistently. _Abiathar, come to my office._ Abiathar was now panicking. A voice in his head was telling him to do something, and he didn't like that. But then it struck him. _In my head..._ he though.

_Very good,_ the voice replied, sounding amused.

_But why do you sound like that? And what are you talking about "your office"?_

_It's not Obsidian, _the voice replied patiently.

Abiathar gasped and went pale. A few of the Riders around him stopped to stare. Ra'id looked on him with concern.

_Who is it then? _Abiathar asked timidly.

_Why, don't you know? It is I, Eragon._


	21. Chapter 21

Abiathar looked around nervously. Walking stiffly toward the large doors, Eragon spoke again.

_Use my door._

Shaking with fear now, Abiathar fought his way through the crowd and received shocked looks for his troubles. As he stumbled to the door, he faintly heard Ra'id shouting for him, but he ignored his friend. He could think of nothing except for a reason that he would be called to the office. Had he done something? Did Eragon find out about Ra'id telling them? Too late to formulate an excuse now, he turned the small silver latch on the door and pushed it open. On the other side was a winding staircase, lined with torches to light the way. Slowly, Abiathar made his way up the stairs. He soon came to another door, identical to the one in the great room. He paused, unsure of whether or not to open the door, but Eragon coaxed him onward.

_Go ahead, come on in._

Terrified, Abiathar opened the door. He stepped into Eragon's office, unsure as to why he had not noticed the door before. But as it swung shut behind him, he realized that the door was located behind Nasuada's portrait. He hurriedly walked around the desk and sat before it, waiting for Eragon to enter. A few minutes later, Eragon himself walked in. Smiling warmly at Abiathar, he took the high-backed chair behind the desk. Noticing his nervousness, Eragon said kindly, "Do not worry, you did nothing wrong. This is about your training."

The fear started to edge away. "My training, sir?"

"Yes, you must be trained differently than the others. You did know that, yes?"

"I'm sorry sir, I didn't. But I assume that it has to do with Obsidian."

"Mm, yes," he said, grinning. "We have never trained a wild dragon before. Therefore, you shall have _two_ guides. Your basic magic and swordsman skills will be tested by Vardenis. You have met him, I presume?"

"Yes sir," said Abiathar quickly.

"Good. However, your battle from dragonback will have to be closely monitored. Therefore, _I _shall battle you."

The color drained from Abiathar's face completely. "But sir, how can you expect me to win?"

"I don't. That's why I shall have Murtagh surveying the battle the air with his dragon Thorn, along with Glaedr. He is Oromis' dragon. Oromis himself will be watching from the ground."

"But sir, surely you would want to watch the battle to judge the abilities of Obsidian. After all, you're the High Rider."

"Ah, you'd be surprised with what I do that Murtagh can do so much better. He is truly the High Rider. He simply did not wish to accept that title because of-" He caught himself before he said too much. Abiathar looked disappointed, but did not press him.

"Well, enough of me. Go back to your room. Vardenis will be there to explain everything."

Abiathar left the office and started down the corridor to his room. As he walked, he worried about the test, thinking he would horribly embarrass himself in front of the three greatest Riders in the world. He let his thoughts wander, and didn't pay attention to where he was going. He was jolted back to his senses as he ran into Karayan. As he stood back up, he caught the mercenary's eye. A feeling ran through him as he looked into the astonishingly blue eyes beneath the silver-blond bangs, a feeling he'd never felt before. He felt like he was freezing from the inside. Karayan broke the contact by bowing slightly, respectfully, then hurried off to his post at Eragon's door. Shaken, Abiathar continued on and found Vardenis at his door.

"You alright?" the older Rider asked. "You look kind of pale."

"I'm... fine," Abiathar lied. The freezing feeling had receded, leaving his insides on fire. The effort it took to keep the pain from showing was exhausting him.

"Alright, I just came to tell you that I'm supposed to fight you tomorrow around noon."

With that, Vardenis left. Abiathar stood for a moment outside his room, mulling over what just happened with Karayan. He didn't know what that feeling was or why it happened, but it did. He decided to sleep on it, and maybe he'd feel better about it in the morning.

But by the next morning, he was more concerned about the fight with Vardenis than he was with what had occurred with Karayan. As he dressed for the battle, he had skipped breakfast, he contemplated which weapon to use. He was about to belt on his saber, when the coiled whip on his dresser caught his eye. It was the one he had bought in the town just yesterday. Dropping his sword back onto his bed, he snatched up the whip and examined it. On closer inspection, he realized how good it actually was. He felt slightly guilty at the meager price he had paid for it, but nonetheless, he attached it to the place on his belt where the sword would have gone. With one last look around his room, he decided to slip a dagger into his boot, just in case.

He could feel Obsidian filling him with strength as he walked out onto the battlefield. The feeling made him smile. It was still strange to be able and allowed to draw power from something else, but he was grateful for it today. After all he went through last night, he would need it.

As he squared off against Vardenis, he could see Sharifah on the edge of the field, opposite Obsidian. His heart rose in his throat. His opponent would surely draw power from his own dragon, which was much more adept at channeling strength than his own dragon. Vardenis laughed, pulling him from his thoughts.

"Your dragon is also a wild one. No telling how much power he can give you, no matter how skilled or unskilled he is at it."

When Abiathar stared at him in disbelieving confusion, Vardenis laughed again.

"You know, you really should learn to better protect your mind."

With that, the battle was started. More than once the strength of the dragons kept the Riders from collapsing under a particularly brutal attack. Sweating, Abiathar worked his chain whip ferociously, often having to pull it taut to catch a swipe from Vardenis' halberd. Soon, his left hand was rubbed raw from having to grab the linked metal so often, and his right shoulder was aching from the vain attempts to incapacitate Vardenis with a solid strike. Casting aside his whip in frustration after the links had completely torn his palm open, he snatched the dagger from his boot. Flicking it around deftly, he managed to ward off most of the oncoming attacks, but he could see that the battle was already lost. The pain in his shoulder had become unbearable. Abiathar could feel Obsidian's great power, just out of reach, trying to ease the pain. But the dragon did not know how to give it, and the Rider did not know how to receive. Resigning to his fate, Abiathar dropped to one knee and bowed his head. Acknowledging the sign of surrender, Vardenis lowered his weapon. Abiathar winced as he waited for his results.

"Full marks all around," he heard Vardenis say. But before he could breathe a sigh of relief, his mentor continued.

"Except in channeling strength. The out come of this fight may have been different if you were able to finalize your link with Obsidian. Focus is the main thing to remember, focus on the dragon and focus on his power. You best not forget that when fighting from dragonback. This exam was not even to test the link, and yet I can tell it needs work. Without a strong link, your dragon is as much use to you as a sword in a dead man's hand, and you are likewise as much use to it."

Nodding, Abiathar stood and shook Vardenis' hand. Afterward, he accompanied Obsidian as the dragon watched the sunset from his favorite perch in the courtyard.

_You miss her, _the dragon said unexpectedly.

_What do you mean?_ Abiathar asked, slightly confused.

_Ahinoam. You forget, I'm as much in your head as you are in mine. I can tell you are thinking about her, wondering how she fairs, and hoping she misses you in return._

Abiathar grinned sheepishly. _Yes, I do miss her. I wish I could do more than write letters. It feels like I'm neglecting her._

_Soon, you shall begin your test in the Spine. I shall have ten days to do as I please. I will ask Eragon for leave of this place and go to Ahinoam. I believe that Samuel can open his mind and speak to me, but I shall bring Ra'id along, just in case. Maybe Zagiri too, so he does not get any ideas about Ahinoam._

Abiathar now looked up at Obsidian, strait into one large gray eye.

"Really?" he asked aloud, letting the emotion he was feeling show in his voice.

_Of course, young one. Heaven know you need all the help you can get when dealing with women._

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Abiathar with mock indignation.

Rumbling in amusement, Obsidian said nothing as he turned back to watch the sun dwindle away behind the trees.


	22. Chapter 22

Well, that was a little better, but I'm still working at it. It'll come to me.

"Thrysta vindr!"

"Good, very good."

Abiathar was going through spells with Vardenis. He focused on the spells he was best at, air. "Compress the air" was a favorite, because it gave him the ability to contort the atmosphere any way he wanted. He was good at that.

"Your electric spells could be better though," Vardenis said. Somehow, Eragon had conjured up the word to control lightning. He said that it was called electricity. It gave a very unusual, tingling feeling when applied. Abiathar always had a hard time with it. "Well, moving on to the next spell-"

However, at that moment, Haig came running.

"Begging your pardon sirs," he said ashamed as he realized what they were doing.

"Forget it my friend." Abiathar waved off his bow. "What is your news?"

"Eragon wishes to see the two of you, Master Obsidian, and Mistress Sharifah at the gate."

Flashing worried glances at each other, they rushed off to find the dragons and make haste for the gate. When they arrived, Abiathar almost fell out of Obsidian's harness. Outside the fence, congregated on the road, were an innumerable amount of Riders and their dragons. Multicolored scales flashed blindingly in the morning sunlight, illuminating the street with a myriad of assorted colors. Checking his dragon's saddle for his weapons, he patted Obsidian's flank, more to comfort himself than the dragon. He found Ra'id easily, for Khaldun stuck out like a sore thumb, but when he saw who was on either side of his friend, he really did fall out of the saddle.

Bowing hurriedly as he brushed the dirt off, his brow broke into sweat as he was addressed.

"So, this is the WildRider, eh son?" asked Garabed. His voice was a bit scratchy. Abiathar had heard about the wound he had suffered to the throat while fighting the Lethablaka. The man had a face like stone, etched with hard lines of battle. His burly form made it possible for him to wield the large pike laid across his legs. The brown dragon beneath him was larger than Obsidian, but still had plenty of growing to do.

"Yes father," Ra'id said with mock formality. They both laughed at the look on Abiathar's face at being called WildRider by the legend Garabed.

"So they've knighted you with a name already, have they?" the third Rider spoke. His voice was deep and calm, but at this moment a hint of humor sounded in it. The Sunstone was surprisingly short, his face almost hidden by his peppered beard. He wielded a huge battle axe. A sparkling emerald green dragon bore his Rider, Sunstone, proudly.

Unable to speak directly to the Sunstone, Abiathar merely nodded without looking up. Ra'id laughed again.

"I warned you, he's not one for formalities."

Abiathar's voice trembled as he spoke to his friend. "What's going on? Why are they here?"

"Oh, I get it. We're not wanted now, is that it?" Garabed said. Sunstone barely controlled his laughter.

"No, no!" Abiathar exclaimed, horrified. "I didn't mean it like that, sir."

"Calm down boy, no need to get worked up," Sunstone said gently. "We're not gods, you can talk to us."

"There here on Eragon's bidding. They haven't told me yet why they're here."

"Eragon will say in good time," said Garabed sternly. "I'd rather you hear it from him."

Just then, Zagiri, Ankine, and Danae joined them.

"We just past Karayan on our way here. Did you know he's a sorcerer?" Ankine said.

Ra'id's eyebrows shot up. "He is?"

"Yes, he must be a good one at that too. He was shooting electricity off."

"Now thats interesting..." said Garabed thoughtfully. "A man who is not a Rider that can control lightning. Does Eragon know of this?"

"He must," offered Zagiri. "Karayan was demonstrating it or something, and Eragon was watching."

Another man came to join the party, but only to deliver a message.

"Eragon wishes for Sir Garabed and Sir Sunstone to join him as he explains the events taking place," the soldier said. The man turned on his heel and left without a reply.

"Well, we'll leave you with your friends here Ra'id," Garabed said. "Especially that one," Abiathar alone heard him say under his breath to Ra'id as he motioned at Zagiri. His son gave him a cuff on the head as Garabed's dragon loped off to Eragon along with Sunstone.

"Karayan, a sorcerer?" Abiathar asked, once the two great Riders had left.

"That's what we saw," Danae confirmed. We were too far away to hear what was actually said, though."

The group stood nervously for a tense few minutes, until Garabed came back.

"Ra'id, Abiathar, Eragon wants to see you."

Breathless, Abiathar remounted Obsidian and followed Ra'id's father. They entered the courtyard again, and made for the area Eragon was located.

"Here they are sir," said Garabed casually as the three rode up.

"Ah yes," said Eragon. Abiathar's breath caught in his throat again. Today was a day of surprises, because he now saw Saphira. The immense blue dragon had to crouch lay down just to see to the dragons that surrounded her, all of which were standing.

"Well, I apologize for the abruptness of the situation. You see, the Ra'zac have massed against us yet again. Normally, I would just send Garabed and Sunstone to make short work of them. However, this time they managed to... complicate things."

"I'm sorry sir, I don't follow," said Ra'id.

"There are more than one Ra'zac this time."

"What?" exclaimed Ra'id. "How can there be more? The remaining two were male."

"They didn't reproduce. Apparently, the original Riders erred in their eradication of the first existing race. The creatures have found more, three more to be precise, that agreed to aid them. Two of them were female."

These last words shook Abiathar. Two female Ra'zac and three males. The race could reform.

"But surely they don't have three more Lethablaka to ride, do they?" Ra'id asked desperately.

"That's just it. There is only one other Lethablaka they found, and yet they two females have obtained another form of transport. I do not know if you would understand this. However, Sunstone should. They have lured a pair of Fanghur. The females ride them."

Garabed gasped and Sunstone let out a low whistle. Ra'id went pale without a sound.

"Fanghur?" Abiathar asked.

"They are a dragon-like species native to the Boer Mountains," Eragon replied.

"Dragon... like? How do you mean, sir?"

"They look and act, somewhat, like dragons. However, they are less magnificent than real dragons, they are not as intelligent, and they cannot breath fire."

"Well then what's so dangerous about them?"

Without a word, Eragon bowed his head and closed his eyes. Expressionless, his face relaxed. Without warning, a soundless scream filled his head, blocking out all else. Clutching his hands over his ears, he tried to silence whatever it was. It threatened to split his skull, when the pain finally receded. Gasping, he heard Eragon say, "That is their power. Their ability to mentally attack their foes is crucial to their battle techniques. I see you will have to learn to better shield your mind if you are to ride with the five of us against them."

"I am to ride with you sir?" Abiathar asked incredulously.

Eragon smiled. "Yes. It will be more beneficial to our purposes of studying your dragon's abilities if it can fight without holding back."

Abiathar was ecstatic, until his mathematics came into play. Calypso

"But sir, there are only four of you, besides me. Who is the other?"

"Why, Karayan, of course."

Okay, the chapters are getting better.

Now I have to share some completely random information with you that has nothing to do whatsoever with the story. I was writing this chapter at about 10:45 at night, so I was kind of tired. I misspelled a few words in this sentence. "Abiathar was ecstatic, until his mathematics came into play." I right clicked them and pulled up the spellcheck window. I checked them off and closed the window. But at then end of the sentence, and I didn't wright it, was the word "Calypso." It wasn't there before. Now, this wouldn't be so bad, but I just saw Pirates of Caribbean: At World's End twice. I don't know how it got there, or if any of you care at all, I just figured I'd throw it out there. I left it there so that you'd believe me. That's why it says "Calypso" randomly. It has nothing to do with the story.


	23. Chapter 23

I'm slowly building my way up. No, make that veeerrrrryyy slowly, building my way up. I should reach my peak of writing on the last chapter...

The wind whipped at Abiathar's cloak relentlessly. Shivering, he crouched low to Obsidian's neck. Ahead, he could see Karayan's black cloak flapping around him majestically at the rear of Saphira. The man had been recruited to the dragon before leaving Carvahall. By Eragon's logic, Saphira was now too big for either Rider or beast to be able to monitor all around. Eragon could only see so far back, and it was too dangerous for the dragon to constantly look around to see if she was being chased. So Karayan was positioned at the base of Saphira's tale so he could alert Eragon if someone was approaching. Abiathar glanced around at the rest of the formation. Ra'id was in the lead, flanked on either side, a few yards back, by Garabed and Sunstone. Himself and Obsidian were in the rear. The four of them formed a protective diamond around Eragon and Saphira. Sighing heavily against the cold, Abiathar could only cinch the straps on his limbs tighter and wait until they arrived at the base of Helgrind for a fire. He envied Ra'id more so at this moment, for the elf knew the spell for warmth and could actually use it. Abiathar knew the word, but every time he tried to use it, an intense heat welled up, and he was forced to stop the spell before the temperature got the best of him.

_Just a few more minutes then, _Abiathar heard Eragon's voice ringing in his head. He noticed the other Riders nodding with understanding, even Karayan. He could feel Obsidian tightening up, anticipating the warm fire and food. Abiathar smiled and patted his dragon's side.

_A few more hours, and you can show Eragon just what you can do._

Sure enough, about ten minutes later, Helgrind came into view through the clouds. Eragon signaled for decent, and no one needed to be told twice. The formation circled once, twice, a third time, then finally landed on a plateau on the smallest mountain. The lights of the town of Dras'Leona could be seen far below, winking out one by one as night approached. Garabed made a fire in a few seconds, and they all sat down to eat what was left out of the saddlebags. It was a fine stew of meat and hardtack bread that Ra'id threw into the broth to soften. Saphira flew off, then returned a quarter of an hour later with two large deer clenched in her talons. Instead of partaking of them herself, she gave one to Khaldun and one to Obsidian. Noticing Abiathar's puzzled look, Eragon said, "She is a full grown dragon. So are Arnon and Hrothgar. These dragons can go for months without food. However, Khaldun and Obsidian are still growing. They need more food."

Abiathar nodded, understanding, but something else Eragon had said jogged the young Rider's memory for stories. "Hrothgar?" he asked. "Wasn't he some kind of important dwarf or something?"

"Important?" snorted Sunstone, sounding offended. "He was the king. The best king the dwarfs ever had. Better than the lot of them deserved, anyways."

"I don't mean to be rude, Sir Sunstone, but how would you know of them? I thought they disappeared many years ago," Abiathar prodded.

"Aye, that they did," the short Rider replied as he ran a whet stone over his axe head. "The stinkin cowards. Ran from a good fight. A chance to defend Alagaesia. I alone of the dwarfs joined Eragon here on his quest to free this country."

Abiathar's mouth hung agape. "You're a dwarf?" he cried.

"Aye, I'm a dwarf," said Sunstone, slightly confused. "I'm not just short cause it suits me, you know."

Abiathar's bowl now clattered to the stone below him. "_Your _ Orik, the rightful king of the dwarfs? I had no idea, sir. A thousand pardons, Your Majesty."

"Aye, right again. Well, mostly. I am Orik, but I'm not the king. No, not after I left with my adopted brother Eragon to break Galbatorix's reign. I was disowned after that."

"But you _are_ the rightful king, aren't you sir? The son of Hrothgar. You named your dragon after him."

A shadow crossed Orik's stony face, but not in anger. Sadness welled up behind those stone gray eyes, and a tear almost, but not quite, fell from the dwarf's eye. "Yes," he said heavily. He gave a short, humorless laugh. "Some son I turned out to be."

"That's enough talk of such things," Eragon cut in gently. "If you wish to know more, speak to me, but do not make Orik relive those memories."

It took Abiathar a moment to realize that Garabed, Ra'id, and Karayan had already gone to sleep. Eragon was climbing into his bedroll, and now Orik was unrolling his as well. Slightly embarrassed that he had not even started preparing for bed, Abiathar hurriedly pulled out his roll. As he tugged on it, one of the stitches caught on one of the buckles on the bag, pulling the sack off of Obsidian and sending it tumbling down the side of the plateau. Silently cursing himself for being so clumsy, he eased himself down the rock face to retrieve the sack. He snatched it up, and was about to scale the wall again, when he tripped on a rock. He realized a moment later that it was not a rock, but a human skull. Gasping, he backed away, only to crush a rib cage beneath his feet. Jumping in alarm, he whirled around and soon saw that he was standing in a poor excuse for a graveyard. Bones stuck up everywhere. Some full skeletons were lying around completely intact, the lifeless faces grinning toothily up at him. He spun again, and almost retched at what he saw. Below him, almost ten yards further down the mountain side, two hideous beasts were crouched over a body. The two creatures wore thick cloaks and clothing that completely swathed them, all but their heads. There hoods were thrown back to reveal a sickening face. Two bulbous eyes protruded from their heads. Instead of a nose and mouth, a large beak occupied the lower half of the face. At this moment, the beaks were working furiously, tearing flesh from the bones as they devoured the body. With all his might, Abiathar held in a scream and instead rushed back up to the campsite to find all asleep but Eragon.

"Eragon sir!" Abiathar called in a hoarse whisper.

"Yes?"

"Sir, there are two... things down there. I don't know what they are, but they're eating a dead man." Abiathar replied in a hushed voice.

Eragon sat up with a start. "Did they have beaks? And bulging eyes?"

"Yes," Abiathar said slowly. "Why?"

"Blood and ashes, the Ra'zac. Wake the others," Eragon muttered to Abiathar as he scrambled for his gleaming white sword. Abiathar went around and roused the remaining Riders, having a hard time with Orik until he finally just pushed him out of his bedroll.

"What is it?" Ra'id asked, annoyed.

"The Ra'zac are down there. Eragon told me to wake you."

Now armed with this knowledge, they all prepared silently to fight. When they were all ready, they slipped back down the rock face that Abiathar had just scaled. Stopping to note the bones, they tip-toed over to the opposite edge and peered down to where Abiathar had seen them. No one was there, but the mutilated carcass was still present. Flies had already started to gather, drawn by the putrid stench. Alert, the fighter scanned the surrounding area for any sign of them. Finally, Garabed spotted a three-taloned footprint in the dirt a few feet away from the body.

"Fanghur," Eragon confirmed after his inspection. Abiathar was suddenly aware of a muffled thudding sound coming from above him. The others noticed too, and glanced around. A horrible cry filled the air as a winged creature crossed over the moon. It was a truly frightening beast. In the brief time that they were able to see it, Abiathar gathered a good image of it. It resembled a starved dog, with tight, hairless skin and extremely large muscles. A beak and eyes, identical to the Ra'zac, adorned its face, and two frightful wings protruded from the shoulders.

"Lethablaka!" Karayan called out. The fighters drew their weapons and summoned their dragons. The fight had begun.


	24. Chapter 24

I think it's long overdue for a thank you.

First off, I need to thank FireLuigi08 for nagging me to even post this story, and reviewing it for me afterwards. He's probably the reason I worked all of CP's character into it, because he wouldn't shut up until I did.

I also thank eliteElite for being the first person that I didn't know at all to review my story. It helped a lot, knowing that somebody else actually liked it. Thanks man.

I didn't know mimus corleone, either. He reviewed my chapters when I was going through a temporary lack of imagination in the story, so I thank you for that. He's one of the reasons that chapter 23 was much better than the ones preceding it.

I know DuskRising, so I can badmouth him without too much trouble. Haha, I wouldn't do that... too harshly, so I'll just leave it at a thanks.

Last but not least is Mountain112. He posted the latest review, and he complimented my detail, even though there wasn't much in a few chapters. He is also one of the reasons that chapter 23 had more imagination in it, so I thank you for that too.

And now, to the story.

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The beast came in fast, but not fast enough. Obsidian came barreling over the cliff and lashed out at it, causing it to rear back in mid-air. It let out another screeching cry, and Abiathar was now aware of running footsteps, accompanied by the thumping of beating wings. Hrothgar could now be seen on the plateau's edge, exhaling fire to light the area. Karayan caught a glimpse of a cape as it fled back to the shadows and rushed after it. Presently, sounds of a skirmish could be heard. Khaldun was now in the air, swooping down as Ra'id prepared to leap onto his back. Elf and dragon took to the sky, seeking out the Fanghur that got close enough to be seen in the firelight. Saphira was now breathing fire alongside Hrothgar, emblazoning the scene with a brilliantly gold light, so the emerald green dragon stopped and joined the ensuing fight. It took to the sky also to search for more Lethablaka or the other Fanghur. Two more Ra'zac dashed into the fray, one galloping on a Lethablaka that winged away. Abiathar mounted Obsidian and chased after it, his dragon shooting spurts of fire at it, unable to retain the flame as long as the older dragons. Soon, the first Lethablaka chased after him, and he was caught between them. At some point, this beast had obtained a rider, who was now cursing him vehemently, swiping his blade in the air. The Lethablaka ahead of him wheeled around, dropping down to swoop underneath the dragon and join it's parter. The two hideous creatures with their equally disgusting riders now flapped their way toward Abiathar and Obsidian, laughing gleefully. However, the dragon halted in mid-air, beating his wings in the most peculiar way. Carving out a rhythmic, figure-eight pattern in the air, the silvery dragon was able to hover, without moving forward, backward, up, or down. The two beasts that were bearing down whipped past him, startled by his strange ability. Sparing his gaze for a moment, Abiathar looked around and noticed that Saphira was now watching them intently. Turning back to the battle, the young Rider cried out as the Lethablaka winged around and renewed their attack. Obsidian did a desperate drop, avoiding a Ra'zac blade by a scale's breath. Frustrated, the Ra'zac jumped from his mount, only to be speared through the shoulder by an unseen spear.

The resulting scream was unearthly. Abiathar had never heard the sound before, and was sure that he never would again. Sickly acid green blood spurted from the wound, spraying Abiathar full in the face. Gagging at the stench, Abiathar vainly tried to wipe his face with his cloak. To give his Rider time to scrub his eyes clean, Obsidian resumed his hover, watching their savior battle.

The dull, dark brown color of Arnon's scales provided the perfect camouflage for the night. Even when crossing the moon, the scales absorbed the light rather than reflecting it. The Lethablaka were terrified, not so much from the unseen terror, but rather the knowledge of who it was. They had apparently been the ones to battle Garabed so many years before in Du Weldenvarden, and they were able to tell it was him. The Ra'zac impaled on the pike managed to shake itself free, but collapsed, unmoving, as it's legs met the ground. The riderless Lethablaka hurled itself at Arnon's head, but Abiathar was now ready for it. The chain whip flickered in the fading light of Saphira's flame, disorienting the beast, causing it to miss it's target. Charging forward, Garabed relentlessly battled the Lethablaka that still had it's Rider, leaving the other to Abiathar with an encouraging shout. The young man smiled.

_Now, we prove our worth._

Weaving his way up through the darkness, Obsidian kept to the shadows as Saphira's fire was finally expended. Khaldun took up the job of lighting the battle, but the large red dragon was far enough way, battling a Ra'zac mounted on a Fanghur, that the light was not bright enough for the terrified Lethablaka to see him. Abiathar could see Saphira engaging the one remaining Fanghur and Lethablaka, fighting against both with unbelievable skill. He could also now see how Karayan faired in his battle. The man, though not as powerful as a Rider, held his ground surprisingly well against the foul creature. Eragon was battling the last remaining opponent, seemingly amused by it's inability to match the great Rider for skill. The Ra'zac that Garabed dispatched was getting to it's feet, wincing, if you could call it that, in pain from his wound. Orik was there in a flash, loping it's head with a clean swipe from his axe. The Lethablaka that Obsidian was chasing let out a heart wrenching scream, sadness and fear mixed to form the strangest sound Abiathar had ever heard. Now close enough to attack, the Rider lashed his whip out, and managed to split the thing's heel. Now delirious with fright and sadness, the animal thrashed in the air, nearly unseating Abiathar as it tossed and turned. Unnerved, yet determined, Abiathar let his whip fly once more. It caught the Lethablaka's foot, wrapping around so that it could not fly away. In the pale light of the dragon fire, the Rider and dragon could see its eyes rolling madly in it's head, screaming and thrashing like nothing they'd ever seen. Only the straps around his legs and Obsidian's sheer bulk kept Abiathar from being ripped from his seat and tossed like a rag doll in the air. With a final shudder, the Lethablaka gave up and snapped its wings together in a final attempt to bring it's opponents down. The whip did not loosen, and neither did the bindings. With nothing else to ease the tension, the leg of the beast was the one to give. With a gut wrenching snap, the hip disconnected. Abiathar shuddered as he felt the whip temporarily go slack, then he retched over Obsidian's side as the Lethablaka let loose the most fearsome cry yet that night. Everyone, even the other Ra'zac and mounts, winced at the sound. Shivers ran down every spine. The creature now dangled wildly beneath the Obsidian, thrashing in pain. Mercifully, Hrothgar silenced it biting it's throat open and snapping it's neck.

Sensing the great feeling of queasiness in it's Rider, Obsidian touched down to the plateau. Khaldun's flame was dying out by now, and Obsidian took up the call until Hrothgar could free his mouth of flesh enough to let loose his flame. Shuddering, Abiathar jumped down from his dragon and watched. One of the Fanghur that was battling Saphira realized the hopelessness and turned tail to flee. Saphira just managed to scorch it's tail as it sped away, but it escaped otherwise unmarred. The Lethablaka soon followed suit, allowing Saphira to land and tear apart Karayan's opponent with minimal difficulty. The Ra'zac battling Eragon suddenly ran, and Eragon did not stop him. The flurry of the two animals wings provided enough distraction for Garabed's opponent to slip away without being noticed. The Ra'zac fighting Ra'id fled as well, but Orik hurled his axe after it with a cry, severing one of the Fanghur's back legs off as it flew away. The animal cried out, but did not falter in it's escape as the limb thumped to the dirt.

The Riders gathered back on the plateau. The fire had long since dwindled away, but Garabed reignited the embers to warm them up as they inspected themselves and the dragons for wounds. Khaldun had a deep slash across his face from the Fanghur, which Eragon bound together with magic, good enough to last until they could reach a proper Healer. Saphira had a similar scratch on her left forearm, also bound temporarily by Eragon. Arnon, Obsidian, and Hrothgar were just exhausted. After having the remainder of their meal and resting for a moment, the Riders returned to the battlefield to see which of their opponents they had eliminated. On inspection, they found that the Ra'zac Orik decapitated was male, while Karayan's opponent was female. The Lethablaka that Abiathar and Orik had killed together was one of the original two, the female of the pair. They could only hope that the third Lethablaka was also a female. Wiping the gore from their weapons and clothes, the Riders slept.

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I really think that this chapter was a lot better, but please review so I know how good it is.


	25. Chapter 25

Okay, that last chapter was definitely better. I agree, the paragraphs were a bit long, I just didn't know when to cut off. Ill try to do better this time.

It was a dream. It had to be.

Abiathar lay sleeping, thrashing and moaning. He was seeing things. Things that were too real to be ignored.

_He was talking to someone, but he couldn't hear what was being said. The one he was speaking with wore a black cloak, the hood pulled up to shroud his face in darkness. He was unidentifiable. He could see people in the background, too far away to be distinguishable. Suddenly, the black shrouded man turned and dashed toward those people. A blade appeared in his hand. His mouth was moving, but Abiathar still could not hear anything. Apparently, he was singling out one of them, for someone was now running away, their mouth open in a soundless scream. Judging by the slight frame, Abiathar concluded that it was a woman. He made to help her, only to find that he could not move. Horrified, he was forced to watch as the black-cloaked man bore down on her, her who was unaided by anyone else. He grabbed her by the shoulders, spinning her so she would face him. Helpless, Abiathar could only look on as the man slipped the blade through her chest, piercing her heart. Sound exploded around him, dismayed cries of the others. Chaos and confusion broke out, shouts were exchanged and weapons were draw to confront this man. But the only sound that Abiathar heard above it all was the mournful cry of the woman. _

"_Zadok..."_

Abiathar woke with a cry, sitting bolt upright. Groggily, Ra'id rolled over to face him.

"What is it?" he mumbled sleepily.

Panting, Abiathar replied, "I- no, don't worry about it. I'll explain in the morning. Go back to sleep."

Shrugging, Ra'id rolled back over and was promptly snoring again.

But Abiathar could not dismiss what he had seen so easily. He remained sitting up, gazing into the glowing coals of the long past fire. He hadn't thought about Zadok in a long time, almost a year, and that made him angry with himself. How could he forget his brother? The one who protected him, taught him to fight, to ride, everything. He though of all the good times, even the times when things weren't so good. It made him smile, but he also began to hate himself even more. He had forgotten the only one who had understood him exactly, because he had gone through the same exact things. He wished that Zadok's life hadn't taken such a wrong turn. He scowled, thinking of Nahash and how he hurt Zadok so much by stealing Tamar. Tamar... Ahinoam had mentioned her in her letters. She had gone into depression, secluding herself from any and all. She needed help, but the only one she would speak to was Abiathar, and he could not just leave his training like that. Or could he...

Determined, Abiathar got up and strode around the fire. He would wake Eragon, tell him his plan, and leave. He would ride Obsidian to Ziklag and meet with his friends again. He wouldn't make them wait any longer.

"Where are you going?"

The smooth voice in the silence made the young Rider jump. Glancing around, his gaze finally fell on Karayan. The man was sitting down in a niche in the rock, gazing at the full moon.

"Oh, Karayan," Abiathar said, relieved. "I was just... well, I was going to..."

"You were going to wake Eragon."

Abiathar drew back a bit. "How did you know?"

"You think I could spend all that time around the Master and not pick up a few things here and there? He was right, you do need to learn to better protect your mind."

Slightly agitated, Abiathar replied, "Why does everyone probe my mind? No matter, what concern of yours is it that I wake him?"

"I wished to know why you're leaving. Normally, Riders don't just up and leave in the prime of their training, you know."

"Personal matters. Nothing that concerns a mercenary like you."

Karayan chuckled, his eyes sparkling. "You think that because I am a mercenary that I am heartless? At any rate, it was simple curiosity, nothing more."

Abiathar turned and walked away, covering the short distance to Eragon.

"Sir, wake up sir, please," he said, lightly shaking his arm. The man did not stir. "Sir, please wake up," he said a bit more forcefully. Still nothing. He drew a deep breath and was about to shout, when Karayan tapped him on his shoulder.

"What is it?" he asked, now very annoyed.

"Calm down, I just wanted to help before you woke all of Dras-Leona," the mercenary said. "Watch."

The man rubbed his hands together, and slowly pulled them apart. A white beam was crackling between his palms, making an odd humming sound. It was electricity, presumably. Karayan slowly pulled his left hand away, turning his right hand so the beam shot down into the ground. Carefully, the man passed the beam over Eragon's ankles. The Rider jolted, then sat up. Satisfied, Karayan let the beam die away.

"Wha- oh, Karayan. It's you. What do you need?" the great Rider asked.

"I need to speak with you sir," Abiathar cut in without waiting for Karayan's to explain.

"Well, Abiathar. I see. Well, get on with it," he said when Abiathar remained silent.

"I don't know how to say it," he said after another moment, embarrassed that he had not thought it out.

"Well, just say it then. It going to come out anyways, no matter what words you use."

"He wishes to leave," Karayan said when Abiathar still would not speak. "Personal matters, he says."

"Ah, I see," said Eragon knowingly. Ahinoam, is it?"

"No," Abiathar said quickly. Then he shrugged sheepishly. "Well, sort of. She is partially the reason, but that's not all. It will take too long to explain, I just wished to have your grace before leaving.

"You wanted to leave right this minute?" the great Rider asked.

"I... I guess," replied Abiathar after he though for a moment.

"Why not wait until morning? You could take Karayan and Ra'id along for company. I'm sure they are getting tired of the same thing day in and day out."

"Sir, I could never take you're personal bodyguard," Abiathar said, shocked.

"You have so little faith in me that you think I need someone to look out for me every minute of every day?" Eragon questioned, amused.

"No, no sir, that's not it at all, I just- well, I-"

"It's alright, it's alright. Yes, you may leave. Your training is proving sufficient, and I think a few days vacation will do you some good. And you will take Karayan and Ra'id."

Nodding, Abiathar returned to his bedroll and slept once more.

Abiathar wasn't sure that he'd ever get over the exhilaration of flying. The way the wind whipped at his face and cloths filled him with ecstasy, and the rhythmic beat of Obsidian's wings made his adrenaline pump. Beside him, on Khaldun, were Ra'id and Karayan. Karayan had fashioned a makeshift harness for himself out of his, Ra'id's, and Abiathar's bedrolls. Ra'id had loosened his arm straps and was reclined in the saddle against one of the spikes on Khaldun's back, his eyes closed. Abiathar turned back to the broad sky, taking in the sight. Billowing clouds drifted above and below him, occasionally blocking out the sun or his view of the ground. All of his worries of home were temporarily forgotten in his journey to get there. Finally recognizing the terrain, Abiathar alerted his dragon, and Obsidian eased his way down, gliding in broad circles. Khaldun mimicked his approach. The two dragons landed in Samuel's field, a good distance from the house. However, Abiathar could see even from here that someone was leaving the house. Abiathar's spirits lifted even more at the sight of his old mentor Samuel. Urging Obsidian along, the dragon trotted meaningfully toward the house, followed closely by Khaldun. Abiathar jumped from his dragon's back and embraced Samuel the minute he was close enough. The old man pulled away after a moment and beamed.

"Welcome back."


	26. Chapter 26

Alright, in a few chapters this story will come to an end. There will be more after it, but I'm just warning you to be ready for surprises and twists. Thanks to all my reviewers, you guys helped a lot, and I'm not kidding.

"Abiathar!"

The young man turned around and grinned from ear to ear. Ahinoam was rushing towards him, arms spread open. She tackled him into the high backed chair that occupied Samuel's great room and buried her face in his chest, hugging him fiercely. She pulled away only for a moment to kiss his cheek, then clamped him in a bear hug again. He closed his arms around her, enjoying her presence while he could. Unexpectedly, she sat up strait, then leaped off him and grabbed his hand.

"Come with me, you must speak to Tamar," she said urgently.

"But I just got back. Can't I even eat with Samuel?"

But she wasn't listening. "Come," she pressed.

She dragged him out of the house and steered him toward the barn. Inside, he found Samson saddled and bridled, ready to ride. He helped Ahinoam onto the horse, then stuck his foot in the stirrup and hoisted himself up. He knew the way to Tamar's house, so he set off at a gallop in that direction, leaving a mental note for Ra'id.

_My lover is taking me to talk to someone. Forgive my sudden absence, and tell Samuel that I went see Tamar. He'll understand._

He heard Ra'id's voice a moment later.

_Will do. Let me know if I can help in anyway, alright?_

Galloping out of the gate, he set off down the road at a fast pace, making a beeline for the center of town. In Ziklag, Tamar's father was a merchant that bought and sold food from farmers, so naturally, they lived in town. He pulled back on the reigns to slow Samson, whirled him down a side street, and resumed his gallop. He made his progress like this for several painstaking minutes until at long last, he was in front of Tamar's elegant house. Leaping off to help Ahinoam, then starting for the door, he was surprised to see that Ahinoam was in fact going the opposite direction as him.

"What is it?" he called after her.

"I'm going to get the others. They should be here for this," she replied.

"I'll come with you then," he said.

"No, you need this time to make her believe that it's actually you. And trust me, that could take a while."

Nodding in understanding, Abiathar once again faced the house and knocked on the door as Ahinoam hurried away. A thin, pale man answered the door, and Abiathar recognized him as the butler.

"Yes... Oh, Master Abiathar, how do you do?" the butler perked up as he recognized his guest.

"Fine, fine Perrin, please, I need to speak with Tamar."

"Mistress Tamar is refusing guests at the moment," the butler replied sadly.

"Please, it's urgent," Abiathar pressed. "Tell her it's me, maybe she'll listen."

The butler flashed a mirthless grin. "I would rather it if you told her," he said stepping aside. "She is rather violent if anyone approaches her for any reason other than to give her her meals."

Determined, Abiathar stepped across the threshold and into the foyer. "I'm going to need you to direct me to her room please, Mr. Perrin."

"Right this way please," said the butler, motioning for Abiathar to follow him up the stairs.

Outside the room, Perrin stepped far back, wincing as Abiathar knocked on the door.

"Go away!" someone screamed madly from inside. The abruptness caught Abiathar off guard, but he soon regained his composure.

"Tamar it's me. Abiathar."

Silence. Intrigued, Perrin stepped forward a little, then reared back as the door lock clicked and flew open. Standing there was Tamar, but no one would have guessed it. Her long hair was scraggly and dirty. Filth coated her face and arms. Her clothes were a mess, dirty and rumpled. He searching, disbelieving eyes were bloodshot and mad, darting all over. When she realized that it was really Abiathar, she threw herself into his arms, bawling madly. He patted her on the back, holding her up as her legs gave way.

"It's alright, I'm here. Everything is going to be okay," he comforted.

She sobbed, tears streaming down her dirty face leaving streaks. She held him tight, quaking and crying for a long time. Abiathar didn't know what else to do besides hold her, and soon his other friends showed up.

"Hey, look, it really is Abiathar," he heard Ziba say. The others called out greetings to him, but quickly silenced as Tamar continued to wail. They crowded around them, offering condolences and sympathy, especially Ahinoam. After a long, long time, she was all cried out and extremely weak. Abiathar carried her into her room and laid her on her bed. The room was torn apart. The mirror lay in thousands of pieces, the frame broken and strewn about. Bed sheets were shredded and cast carelessly about. The bed itself was cracked in multiple places where Tamar had punched it or hit it with one of the pieces of the destroyed bureau. Abiathar sat gingerly on it, hoping that the frame would hold. It did, but groaned in immense protest. He patted her hand as she sighed, some of the insanity leaving her face.

"You came," she breathed. "I didn't think either one of you would come again."

"Yes, I came," he replied. "And someday, Zadok will too."

"Zadok," she sighed. "I miss him so much. I don't know what got into me," she said quietly. "I don't know how I could hurt him so much without a second thought. I... I just don't know..."

"I do."

Tamar and Ahinoam let out a small scream. Abiathar turned, drawing his saber as he did, quickly mimicked by the others present. When he saw who it was, he was amazed, but put his sword away.

"It's alright," he said, motioning for the others to put away their weapons. "He came with me."

"That's right," said Karayan in his smooth voice, stepping away from his position of leaning at the door frame.

"What are you doing here?" Abiathar asked, very confused.

"Eragon sent me along as a mercenary. I was hired as a bodyguard, so that's what I'm doing. I came to make sure you weren't killed."

"You followed me all the way here?" Abiathar questioned.

"Well, I wasn't exactly out for a stroll."

"Never mind that, what do you mean by saying that you know what happened to Tamar?" Abiathar said.

"Simple. How well did you know this man?" Karayan replied.

"Not very well... hey, how did you even know about that?"

"You really should get Ra'id to teach you mind defense."

Growling, Abiathar pressed on. "So, what's your point."

"My point is, you didn't know him. So, therefore, he could have been trained in mind probing. He was most definitely trained in mind probing," Karayan said after a moment. "Her mind has been manipulated. I can tell. He never released his control over her, so when you broke his power, the after affects distorted her mind."

"What do you mean, broke his control?"

"You told her off. Made her feel guilty. You reminded her of what she had, who she hurt. That feeling gave her strength, enough strength to break free of his power. But that strength did not last. When you left, it wore off, and her mind twisted. She became depressed, angry, sad, even insane. A shock to the mind like that does not go away easily. Since you were the one to cause it, your return has fixed the problem. Temporarily. While Ra'id and I are around here, we can completely severe his control, giving here her sanity back permanently."

"How do you know all this?" Abiel spoke up.

"I am the personal bodyguard of the Rider king, Eragon himself. I learn things."

"So, what am I to do now?" Abiathar said.

"Stay with her. Make sure she's alright, and don't leave until she sleeps, which won't be long from now. I will speak with Ra'id about his matter, and we'll see what we can do."

Abiathar nodded, and Karayan left the room, but Abiathar knew he was just outside the door. He turned his attention back to Tamar, who was smiling at him. He didn't say anything, and soon she drifted off to sleep.


	27. Chapter 27

Coming to a close with this story. I'm aiming to end by chapter 30. But I'll try and end it before that.

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Tamar descended the stairs from her room. Abiathar was taking her and Ahinoam to a theatrical showing.

"Oh, you look beautiful!" squealed Ahinoam. And it was true. She did look stunning to Abiathar, clean and with a new dress. Not quite as attractive as Ahinoam, but nonetheless beautiful.

"Thank you. And thank you, Abiathar, for inviting me to go with you," she replied. Over the last week, Abiathar had stayed with her day and night, keeping her company. Just two days ago, Ra'id and Karayan had finally managed wrest free the rest of her mind, giving her back her sanity and her life back.

"No problem. Hope you enjoy it," he told her.

"I will. I also have to thank you for helping me. I probably would have hurt myself, someone else, or worse, if you hadn't come."

Abiathar nodded. Then he turned to his bodyguard and said, "Well then, come on then Karayan. We're leaving," and waved for him to follow.

"Does he have to come?" Ahinoam whisper to Abiathar as she took his arm.

Abiathar sighed. "He's going to come anyways," he murmured. "'Orders.' Might as well invite him rather than have him pop up at the most inopportune moment."

"I don't know," Tamar interjected. "He is kind of handsome."

Ahinoam rolled her eyes, but said nothing. They went outside, and the two women gasped. Obsidian stood in place of a horse, gleaming silver.

"We're riding on that?" asked Tamar incredulously.

Abiathar laughed. "Of course. You didn't think I'd let you both down by not going in style, did you?"

The three approached the dragon, the women much more cautiously than need be. Tamar climbed up herself, but Ahinoam was having some trouble, so Abiathar lifted her up. Abiathar sat in the middle of the saddle with Ahinoam in front of him. Tamar sat behind him with her back against his, looking out over the dragon's back. Karayan nimbly climbed up one of the hind legs and promptly took a seat near the tail between two of the spikes. Obsidian took of with one powerful thrust of his hind legs and was soon winging away high above the ground. Tamar gripped the spike before her, and Ahinoam clutched the arm Abiathar had around her waist. A few minutes later, they landed out in front of the theater, and the sight of Obsidian drew a collective gasp from those mingling out in the front lawn. Abiathar helped all but Karayan down, and Obsidian promptly flew away. Abiathar glanced at the mingling crowd, and was shocked and pleased to see Aries there.

"Aries, old friend!" he cried, hurrying over to him.

The man looked around, finally setting eyes on the one calling him. "Abiathar!" he exclaimed, rushing toward him.

They shook hands and stepped back to look at each other. Abiathar wore his best clothes, the ones he used for formal meetings with Eragon, complete with his sky blue cloak. Aries wore an all black cloak with a dark gray suit for the occasion. They talked about idle things for a while, catching up on the events that took place on both ends, and then Aries asked an awkward question.

"So, how is Zadok doing?" Aries said casually.

"I don't know," Abiathar said heavily. "He left right after the battle against Ahab's troops. He didn't tell anyone where he was going."

"Oh, that's too bad," said Aries, a sudden and shocking amount of vehemence in his voice, a sneer on his face. Abiathar stepped back. This was not the Aries he knew. The Aries he knew would have cared about Zadok and not acted like this when finding out about his fate. This man, who had pulled his hood over his face to prevent identification and was now saying, "I guess he won't need her then." Abiathar did not move for a moment, then the realization of it hit him. He was talking about Tamar. Aries spun around and ran at her, pulling a sword from the folds of his cloak as he ran. She saw him coming and heard him calling out, "I'm coming for you Tamar! Zadok will pay!" and she ran for it, screaming. Abiathar tried to help her, and found his legs and arms bound by an unseen force. Yelling at Aries to stop, he could only watch as his dream was fulfilled. Horror gripped him. Aries grabbed Tamar's shoulders and spun her around to face him. The sword slowly, slowly, pierced her skin and punctured her heart. Abiathar's knees went weak, but he did not fall because of whatever was holding him. People were shouting now, and those with weapons drew them and chased after Aries, but the man had suddenly disappeared. But nothing else had Abiathar's attention except Tamar. She did not scream, did not cry out in pain, only lamented, her final words were spoken with fondness and pain;

"Zadok... forgive... me..."

"ARIES!" someone screamed insainly. It was the loudest shout Abiathar had ever heard. Confused, he looked around. From somewhere above him, he heard beating wings and looked up. Obsidian was flying overhead, and someone had leaped from his back. Now, he could see it was Karayan. The black cloak, slivery hair, and blood red cloths gave it away. He was tumbling down, but then he suddenly jolted. Aries had appeared from no where beneath him, falling the same way as Karayan. Apparently, he had not expected to be hit at all. They fell until Abiathar was sure they would both die when they hit the ground. But then something happened that took everyones breath away. The two stopped writhing in the air and straitened into a head-first dive. They closed their eyes and then they started to pull their heads up. Their bodies leveled out, and they were gliding face down, a few feet above the ground. But they were no longer falling. They were flying, parallel to the ground, weaving in and out between the people they couldn't see. Simultaneously, they pulled up and were now hovering about fifteen feet above everyone. It looked like they could have been standing if there were ground under their feet. Aries' hood had been ripped back in the fall, and the sneering grin on his face showed his obvious hatred. Abiathar was surprised to see anger, and more shockingly, sadness, on Karayan's face. He had never known the hardened mercenary to show emotion, especially over someone he hadn't known.

"Come to let me settle the score then, Zadok?" Aries sneered.

Abiathar's heart stopped beating. He stopped breathing. _No, _he told himself. _No, it can't be him. He's gone. He said he'd never come back._ As much as he wanted to believe that Karayan was really Zadok, the prospect frightened him. He wasn't sure how his brother would have changed over the last year, and he wasn't sure if he even believed that this was him. But his thoughts were disrupted as Karayan spoke.

"Aries," he said. "You were my friend. I trusted you. When you ran off to the Forest, I did what I had to to save you. I did not enjoy it, but it would have destroyed you. I saved you, and you refuse to believe that."

"You did not save me!" Aries bellowed. He wobbled a bit in the air. "I would have survived it. Ladon was helping me."

"You would have failed, and those demons would have fed off of you until you died there," Karayan shot back. "Don't you remember how they controlled you so long ago at that tournament? They almost made you kill Abiathar. If Samuel and I weren't there, they would have accomplished their task. You rejected them that day, the day Samuel drove Xatame out of the Elder. The day that he threatened me," he said. As he spoke, he turned to Abiathar. Looking around to see that the mercenary was really looking at him, he saw what was holding him. The centaur that had emerged from the Elder almost a year ago was now holding his arms behind his back and had tied his legs together. He shuddered as the beast grinned evilly down at him, but it said nothing.

"I did reject them, and I regretted it every day afterwards. Until Ladon gave me a second chance. He sent me to the Forest of Evermore to fulfill his master's bidding, a task that needs to be done. If I survived, he would take me back and together, we would have grown strong. But now, I must go back yet again and attempt the job, but without help. Ladon will not be with me this time. He is merciful, but demands punishment for failure."

"That's why you can't go back," Karayan implored. "You'll die. No one ever has or will survive the trip."

"Enough talk!" Aries bellowed. "I will kill you for interfering!"

He drew two long, thin swords from his back, whipping them around and flying at Karayan. The mercenary flew up and unstrapped his swallow, coming back down to Aries' level to fight him. It was the oddest battle Abiathar had ever witnessed, because both opponents not only had left, right, forward and backward advantages, they also had up and down. Soon, however, Obsidian returned, roaring and flying low. Aries realized the hopelessness of his situation, and disappeared again, and this time he did not come back. Abiathar found that he could move his limbs again, and he collapsed under his own weight. Shaking himself free of dirt, he rose, and there before him stood Karayan. He looked him over, trying to decide whether or not he really was Zadok, until the mercenary spoke.

"You've come a long way, little brother."


	28. Chapter 28

Ha ha, odd twist, don't you think? I'll clear some stuff up in this chapter.

Abiathar collapsed. Karayan caught him before he hit the ground. But was it really Karayan?

"Easy now, it's alright," the man said. He laid him down gently on the ground.

It took Abiathar a long time to recuperate. By now, the show had started, but that was the last thing on Abiathar's or Ahinoam's mind. As Abiathar lay on the ground, Ahinoam stood frozen where she was, a few feet away from them. Finally, Abiathar had recovered his wits enough to talk.

"Are... are you really... Zadok?" he asked weakly.

No answer. Karayan looked away, strait at the spot where Tamar's body lay.

"I was. But I am no longer."

The words, though spoken with little elegance, affected the Rider more than anything ever had. He found even breathing a difficult and unnecessary task, using all his energy to focus on what he had just learned. He couldn't even fathom that the hardened mercenary was his brother.

"What do you mean, no longer?" asked Ahinoam, breaking his chain of thought.

Karayan, now known as Zadok, turned back to them.

"A year ago, I was Zadok. Carefree, lovestruck Zadok. Not a problem in the world. When Tamar left me for Nahash, I thought that my world was destroyed. But after what I have seen and done over the last year, Tamar not loving me was such a small, insignificant event, that it was not even worth thinking about. True, I loved her, and would have given my life for her, but events had taken a different course. Things happened, the likes of which you two wouldn't even see in your wildest dreams."

"Like what?" Abiathar asked.

"I'll explain in good time, little brother, but not until you are strong enough to handle the things I will tell you," his brother replied.

Zadok stood, and Abiathar could tell by the look on his face that he was calling Obsidian. To prove his point, the silver dragon swooped down an instant later, battering the trio with wind from his wings. Zadok waved his hand, and Ahinoam was suddenly flying slowly up to the dragon's back as he landed. His brother waved his other hand, and Abiathar was also lifted into the air. But instead of being set down on his dragon's back, he floated about a foot away from the saddle and stopped. Zadok clambered up to his seat near the tail and motioned for Ahinoam to strap herself in at the saddle as she was set down on it. This hand free now, he made an odd gesture with it and Samson lurched into the air, to the beast's great surprise. He was raised up to the same position as Abiathar, but on the opposite side of the saddle. With another mental command from Zadok, the dragon jumped into the air and was soon flying away toward Samuel's house. Zadok kept both man and beast up to pace with the dragon, who flew slowly to allow for this odd mode of transport. They didn't bother to follow the road, instead taking the shortest route possible. When Obsidian settled down to the ground, Zadok set the horse down, which quickly galloped away toward the barn, whinnying in fear. He helped Ahinoam down, then with both hands, slowly flew Abiathar to the house. He laid his brother down on the bench and waited for him to regain his strength. After a long time, Zadok finally was ready to tell the story.

"It all began the day I left. Now, I suppose that Tamar leaving me was a good thing, because if she hadn't, then I'd still be here, and Aries would be dead or all powerful."

Ahinoam opened her mouth to say something, but Zadok cut her off.

"Unless it's irrelevant to the story, please hold all questions until I am done," he said. She snapped her mouth shut.

"Now, a few days after I left, I was starving, cold, and had no place to go. I hadn't thought out my 'dramatically emotional' escape all that well. That's when I met Aries. He said that he had a mission from his master, and I assumed that he meant the Elder. Naturally, I wanted to help him with it, being a fellow Swordsman, so I went with him. We traveled all the way across the Spine to Narda. Aries had a ship in berth there, waiting for us. We sailed for a long, long time. When I was absolutely certain that we had gone off the map, a small island came into view. They altered course and made way for it. Aries told me that he had to go to that island, and that he would take only me along. See, throughout this journey, Aries had not only explained his mission to me, but he had been teaching me how to wield a certain power. Not magic, he explained, but power from gods that the elves did not believe in. Dwarfs were close in there beliefs, but only the people from the Ya'zuac plains knew exactly where this power came from. He was to use these powers and open a certain portal on this island. The portal was in the center of a place called the Forest of Evermore, and it was supposed to link this world with another. No one else besides him had enough knowledge, at that time, of these powers to do what he had to."

"I resent that," a familiar voice rang out at the top of Samuel's stairs. Zadok smiled as he turned to face his old trainer. Samuel himself came down the steps, beaming when he saw Zadok.

"Blood and ashes, you've changed," the old man said as he shook Zadok's hand.

Zadok's smile widened. "I'll take that as a compliment." He grew serious. "What do you mean, you resent what I said?"

Without a word, Samuel waved his hand. Abiathar was once again lifted up into the air and then set back down.

Zadok laughed. "I see. I should have noticed it sooner."

"Yes, you should have. How do you think I found you so fast the first time you tried to run away?"

Zadok and Abiathar thought back that long ago event. It was right after Zadok had beaten Nahash to the brink of death. He had called all his friends together, and they ran from Ziklag. They almost got away, but Samuel had found them and brought them back. It had confused them all when he did, because he found them in only three days, and they were gone for almost a week and a half beforehand. Samuel had also transported them back to Ziklag in less than five minutes upon finding them, but none of them had ever thought to ask how.

"Ah yes, I see it now. You used... ah... _Verschieben Sie Uns_, am I correct?"

Samuel hummed. "Yes, I thought you might have understood me."

"So that's what he said..." Abiathar mused softly.

"Well, actually, he said, 'By your glory, take us to Ziklag', but it was a spell he used, a request if you will, that was what you heard. Verschieben Sie Uns."

"A... request?" Ahinoam said.

"Yes. You see, the same thing that the Riders use as magic is also what we believe to be god. We of Ya'zuac call him Athan, but he also goes by many other names, one of which the dwarfs call Him. There are a remote amount of people in the world that can truly connect with Him. All can have a relationship, and all can speak with Him, but a few can actually use supernatural powers granted by Him. These people are called Heiligs. What Samuel and I have just demonstrated are a few of the things that can be done. Anyways, moving along, Aries showed me how to use these powers. What he failed to realize is that mine were different from his. He drew his power from Ladon and his master. I drew mine from Tikvah and Athan."

"Who are they?" Abiathar questioned. "And what's the difference?"

Zadok frowned. "Ladon was an elf, fallen from the grace of all but his master. His master, the name of whom I have not heard, is the Dark One. The Dark One is the opposite of Athan, but has similar power. He too can do for Aries what Athan does for me, but with a price. He consumes his hosts, invading their minds until they can no longer control there actions or thoughts. They become his puppet, doing exactly as he commands without so much as a second thought to what that command may be. Tikvah, however, is different. Tikvah was an elf that did not follow the elven beliefs. He ran from Du Weldenvarden, claiming that the elves were doomed to eternal damnation if they did not open their eyes to the truth. He sealed himself away with the dwarven priests, learning all he could of their god. When he was finally sought out and killed by his fellow elves, he had learned to use the Power of Athan. His soul joined with Athan when he died, and he became one of his angels, much like Ladon did with the Dark One. Tikvah is the one who lets me wield these powers. He is what makes me a Heilig. Ladon is the one who lets Aries wield the Dark One's power. Ladon makes Aries a Übel."

Abiathar thought for a moment. "I see," he said after sorting it all out. "So how do the Riders tie into this?"

"The Riders use a copy of the powers Tikvah grants me. However, they do not have personal contact with an angel, and therefore must rely on their own strength to fuel the spells," Zadok said.

"So, Samuel use the Ancient language then? Why haven't I heard mention of that spell since then?"

"No, pay attention. The Riders copied the Heiligs and Übels, not the other way around. A Heilig has a single angel assigned to them that gives them the power to cast a spell without that spell draining the Heilig's energy. When the Riders use magic, they draw from the power source that is an accumulation of all the angels' powers. This is simply the means, so the Rider's own strength must do the work. A Heilig can cast any number of spells without tiring, because the angel can personally fuel it."

Abiathar scowled. "So Heiligs and Übels are invincible then? Nothing can stop them, if they cannot tire and can do whatever they wish with their magic."

"Not true," Zadok corrected him. "You forget that the angel also has a mind itself. Some requests are turned down by the angel, if it is too difficult or simply unreasonable. I could command Tikvah to kill you all right now, but he wouldn't do that because it is asking too much, and goes against what he believes. And, I could tell him to destroy the world, but that is beyond the power that Athan grants him and I."

Abiathar smiled a little. "Good. I don't want you too much more powerful than me."

Zadok grinned. "Can I finish my story now?"

"Oh, right, of course," Abiathar said.

"Well, Aries taught me to contact Athan, but he didn't know that it was Athan and not the Dark One, because the results are so similar. It wasn't until we reached the island alone that he knew the mistake he had made. We walked into the heart of the Forest of Evermore, and he told me what he was to do. He was to enter the portal and go to the other world. Once there, he was to find a way to bring the Dark One in so that he could establish a solid form there. He cannot do this in Alagaesia, because of the widespread use of magic by the Riders and the Heiligs. Once solidified, he would re-enter the portal and wage war on Alagaesia. To open the portal, Aries explained, he needed a sacrifice. I thought he meant an animal or something similar, until he told me to climb up onto the alter he had constructed. When I refused, he panicked. He had not trained me in the ways of the Dark One, as he had thought, but in the ways of Athan. Because of this, the Dark One had no hold over me, so I would not be a suitable sacrifice. There was no time to teach any of the others aboard the ship the way of the Dark One, so he tried to kill me. We fought, but neither of us was any better, so he tried to come up with an accord. If I let him kill me, he promised the Dark One would resurrect me after the task was completed. I refused again, and used the _Verschieben Sie Uns _spell to take me and the ship away from that place. But I had done enough damage. I did not know it at the time, but when I used such a powerful spell as that, it destroyed the portal. There is no way for Aries to enter the other world. That is why I cannot let him return to the Forest of Evermore, because if he does, Ladon will consume him until his existence will be worse than death itself."

Abiathar and Ahinoam gasped. Samuel's eyes widened slightly.

"He's gone that far already?" the old man asked.

"Yes," Zadok replied sadly. "I returned to seek out Eragon's help, but he was uneducated in the ways of a Heilig. I stayed with him, hoping to meet one, because Heiligs and Riders are so similar, but I never did. Until now. So, will you help me?"

Samuel nodded firmly. "You know I will, Zadok."


	29. Chapter 29

Haha, I changed my mind, I'm aiming for thirty chapters, then I'll be done with this story. It will probably be a trilogy, so keep your eyes open for more. I finally brought it full circle to my original story, tyeing it in with the Riders, so it should be more interesting.

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Abiathar was still confused. "So, if the portal is destroyed, why is Aries going back? If he can't use it, why is he trying?"

Zadok sighed. "Because he believes Ladon. He believes that he can restore the Forest of Evermore to its full purpose. Aries may have full been able to, but not without Ladon's power. If his demon is not going to be with him, then the portal will never be opened."

"But why is the Forest of Evermore so important, anyways? I've personally never heard of the Dark One, so, what's the big deal?" Abiathar pressed.

Zadok was about to answer, but Samuel whirled on him first.

"What's the big deal, you ask? Why is it so important that the Dark One remains locked up? It is because you've never heard of him or the Forest that makes it so important. No one has heard of them. You see, long ago, before elves or humans were here, there was only the dwarfs and the dragons on this land. The elves came from a continent that none have ever been to, but the humans came from the Forest. They stumbled the portal in their world, the one that connects to ours. But they never knew of Athan or the Dark One. You see, the dwarfs have always been religious. They bound with Athan, called Helzvog in their land, and found his favor. The Dark One did not like this at all, and tried to take command by force. However, Athan had gifted some of the dwarven priests with the powers of a Heilig, and they managed to drive the Dark One back and bind him to the spirit world. No one was told of this but the Heiligs that preceded the event, and so on, and so on. But as time past, Heiligs became more scarce, and the Dark One's power started to grow. As long as one Heilig remains, he cannot return, but they thin more and more everyday, hunted down and killed by the Übels. If he could take the form of a human, the power that the Heiligs hold over him would be broken, and he would be free to reign and destroy as he pleased. The Heiligs would still attempt to stop him, but it would be futile against such odds as fighting a god."

Ahinoam spoke, but quietly. "So why can he take form in this other world, and not ours?"

Here, Zadok explained. "Because there is none of the Heiligs' power in that world. Alagaesia is what he is bound to and by, but if he could escape this place, the control he had been taken under by the original Heiligs would not be able to reach him. In the other world, nothing binds him, nothing stops him from doing as he pleases. Once freed, he can return and walk among us unaffected. That is why the Forest of Evermore is the key to his demise or uprising. Ladon is the strongest of all the Dark One's demons, so Aries is the only one who can do this."

"What about you?" Abiathar asked. "Is Tikvah strong enough to stop him?"

Zadok bowed his head, eyes closed. Samuel put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "I'll tell them," the old man said. "Tikvah is Ladon's brother. He alone can stop him. But it places a terrible burden on Zadok. He must fight Aries to the death if anything is to be done. If Zadok wins, then Tikvah can inhabit the Forest and prevent any demon from entering again. But if Aries wins, then Ladon will move swiftly through the Forest, opening the portal and allowing the Dark One to rise. You see, when a Heilig or a Übels dies, then their corresponding angel or demon has lost it's host. They cannot contact this world without a host. They are lost to us."

"So what's the matter?" Abiathar said again. "Zadok has beaten him twice already, he can do it again."

"Weren't you listening?" Ahinoam said. "He has to fight _to the death_. One of them must die."

Abiathar looked away ashamed.

"She's right," Zadok confirmed. "I have to kill him. But I can't do it. Aries was my friend once, and that's all I'll be able to think of when I fight him. I can't kill someone who was once my friend."

Abiathar perked up. "But why can't Athan do it? Why can't He inhabit the forest?"

"Because Athan won't," Zadok replied. "It is not time for him to reveal himself. Someday, he will come and liberate us, and it will be eternal. But this is not that time. Only when all hope is lost will he come, but now there is still hope. I am that hope. For those that do not know me," he added sadly at the end. "I'm not sure I'll be able to do the deed when the time comes."

"You must," Samuel said, gently but firmly. "You know the Dark One cannot be allowed to rise."

Zadok sighed again. "I know, but it's so hard to even contemplate, let alone do it."

"I never said it would be easy. I simply said that you must."

Zadok said nothing. After a moment, he started to walk away.

"I need some rest. I'll be up in my room," he said.

Abiathar waited until he heard the door close behind his brother. He sat there a moment, then gasped. He finally realized his situation. His brother, a higher religious figure than a priest and a more skilled fighter than a Rider, had just come back out of the blue after almost a year. The day he comes back, the love of his life is killed. He felt a glimpse of the crushing depression that he was sure Zadok felt right now. He was sure he would never fully understand exactly how his brother felt unless he actually went through what he did. He wasn't sure he'd be able to bear it if Ahinoam died. He put an arm around her as she sat down, holding her close, appreciating her affection more than anyone ever would. He thought back to Tamar, then jolted a little.

"Samuel, Tamar's body is still out there. We never brought it back."

"On the contrary, my friend," Samuel said heavily. "Zadok, Tikvah, rather, brought it back along with all of you. You just never saw it."

Abiathar was confused. "But how can that be?"

Samuel's sad face cracked a small smile. "Am I correct in understanding that Aries disappeared during his last fight?"

Abiathar nodded.

"Hmm, I assumed as much. Now, do you think that Zadok could not do that, even to someone else? He is linked, as you know, to the angel that is of equal strength with Ladon."

Abiathar laughed at himself. He was being particularly dense today. "So where is she?" he asked, growing serious.

Samuel's face once again bore his terrible sadness. "He wants me to bury her in the most important place he could think of. He wants her buried at the same spot where you found Obsidian."

"But how does he know about that?" Abiathar asked.

Samuel smirked, only for a moment. "You know, you really should learn to better protect your mind."

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So, what do you think? Different? Please ask me if there is something you didn't understand about Heiligs and Übels and Athan and all that. I have it all thought out, I'm just not sure I put it all down. Thanks.


	30. Chapter 30

Last chapter. I'll probably focus on my Narnian story after this is done, so sorry, but you'll have to wait a little bit for the second installment of this trilogy to come out. I'm going to wait a little before posting the second story anyways, so I have time to proofread it and write it so I'm not struggling for chapters. Thanks to all my readers, especially:

FireLuigi08

DuskRising

eliteElite

Mountian112

mimus corleone

Big Drk

3.419

Look them up.

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The day was bright, a complete contrast to the mood. The sun shown dazzlingly through the tree tops, not a cloud to be seen. The forest sparkled, light reflecting off the surface of the river and alighting the rock tower with spectacular color. However, the solemn group that stood in the shadow of this great tower did not even notice this. All of them stood silently as Samuel paid his respects to Tamar as she laid in the casket Zadok had constructed for her, using no magic. However, the grand coffin looked as if made by an expert. Abiathar, Ahinoam, Ziba, Hannah, Abiel, Makir, Ammiel, and even Obsidian stood by, heads bowed respectfully Samuel came to an end and Zadok approached the open casket. Ahinoam and Hannah started to cry as Zadok gently caressed her face in his hand. A single tear fell from Zadok's eye as he slowly closed the lid. It landed in her outstretched palm, sparkling with the same light as the river. That was the last they all saw of Tamar as the casket was closed and she was laid to rest beneath the great stone tower. The group proceeded forward in a single file line to place flowers and such on the new grave. Obsidian used his smallest talon and etched:

_Here lies Tamar._

_The love of the true Heilig Zadok._

_May she find peace._

Zadok read it, then turned and pated Obsidian gratefully on his forearm. The dragon rumbled, his contribution made. The others left Zadok alone, quietly filing out of the clearing to give him space. When he was out of his brother's sight, Abiathar turned back to spy on him through the leaves, leaving him be but checking on him nonetheless. For a while, his brother did nothing, just thought to himself. But soon he saw Zadok stand and face the pillar, arms outstretched, eyes closed. Curiosity aroused, Abiathar sat up a bit to watch. He could hear Zadok mumbling something under his breath, but he didn't understand what was being said. He could hear the sentences being said over and over, gradually growing louder until he heard the chant clearly.

_Tikvah, drehen meiner Liebe ernst zum Diamante, geben ihr das größte Geschenk, das sie überhaupt wünschte! Tikvah, ätzen Gedächtnis meiner Liebe in meinem Verstand, ließ mich nie vergessen ihn, selbst wenn ich sterbe! Tikvah, drehen..._

The chant continued for a minute. Two minutes. Three. It went on until finally, Zadok fell to his knees, folded his hands in his lap, and bowed his head to the ground. The stone pillar started to rumble. Shaking until Abiathar thought it would fall over. A horrible thought shook the young Rider. Maybe Zadok had commanded his angel to crush him beneath the pillar, burring him with Tamar. He dismissed it after a moment, recalling what his brother had said about unreasonable requests. He was amazed a moment later as the substance of the pillar began to change, shifting slowly from the cold, gray of stone to the clear, dazzling color of diamond. He realized a moment later that it really _was _diamond, not just changed in appearance. His brother got to his feet, took one last forlorn look at the grave, then turned and strode away. Abiathar realized too late that his hiding space was obvious, and could only hope that Zadok didn't see him. His brother stopped a few paces away from him, and he felt all hope of not being discovered drain away as he was lifted off the ground. He drifted slowly out of hiding, right in front of Zadok. He could only smile sheepishly as he met his brother's ice blue eyes with his. They stared at each other for a moment, then with a laugh Zadok threw his brother in the air and bounced him around with his powers, cackling with laughter. After a few seconds, he set him down on his feet and smiled.

"Thanks Abiathar, I really needed that," he said, even as his face returned to it's stonelike sadness.

Abiathar ruefully rubbed his limbs. "You're welcome... I think," he said slowly. Zadok laughed again, but soon became solemn again. They met up with the others in the clearing after a while. Abiathar was slightly confused at how fast they made the trip, but assumed that the trip had been sped up by Zadok's magic.

"So what do we do now?" asked Makir as he swung down from his favorite tree.

"Well, I have big plans, but I must be sure that you're all with me," Zadok said seriously.

Ziba spoke first. "I'm in," he said with finality.

"Me too," spoke up Abiel.

"Aye," said Ammiel.

"Count me in," said Makir.

Zadok turned to Abiathar. "And you?" he said.

"You know I'm in. You insult me by asking," he replied good-naturally.

"Alright then," said Zadok. "We need to stop Aries most of all, but we must go about it a certain way. Other than me, Abiathar is the only one strong enough to face any of the minions he may set on us, and we can't be fighting everyone. We must visit the dwarfs to ask for aid and to at least train a few of you in rudimentary light magic. I also must touch up on my spells, I was never officially trained in light magic myself. Those of you that are not compatible will then learn basic spells from the elves when we go visit them and implore them for help."

They all nodded firmly. They would stick by the Heilig, aid him in all he needed, and not rest until they saw his deed done. Even if it killed them. He had been through enough suffering to have them bail on him now.

"Out of curiosity, what do you mean, compatible?" Abiel asked.

"Some of you may not be able to truly connect with Athan or an angel. Some of you will. It all depends on the condition of your soul. It doesn't make you a bad person, it's just how you were made," Zadok explained.

"Oh, okay," said Ammiel. "And this is stronger magic, yes?" he asked. Zadok nodded. "Ah, so those of us who can't use it will be able to use the magic of the elves, correct?"

"Yes, right on," said Zadok. "Exactly right."

"Well then, I guess were all taking a long vacation cross-country," said Ziba. "We'll be there for you, Zadok."

The man looked up and smiled. "No, do not call me by that name. I gave that name up long ago, along with my heart as it died. Call me by the name I choose to foolishly hide myself. Call me by my Heilig name. Karayan."

The End.


End file.
